


if everything's a season, then i'm a setting sun

by judypoovey



Series: i'd be appalled if i saw you ever try to be a saint [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Badass Karen Wheeler, Canon Compliant, Divorce, Enemies to Frenemies to Frenemies With Benefits, F/M, Female Friendship!, Gen, Is Murray Still Hung Up on Alexei? Absolutely., Jewish Joyce Byers, Mom's Drinking Wine, S4 Speculation, Slow Burn, The slowest, implied robin/kali, one year after s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-07-09 01:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 36,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judypoovey/pseuds/judypoovey
Summary: Karen Wheeler thought her husband sleeping with his secretary was the worst thing that could ever happen to her. Then a highway patrolman calls to tell her that her daughter and daughter's boyfriend died in a fiery car wreck.Only they didn't, and Karen has somehow stumbled in an international conspiracy that her children and friend have been keeping from her for years.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I love Karen and I want to see her thrive. Yes I kinda borrowed the opening plot beats from season 1 of Marvelous Mrs Maisel, except it's monster hunting instead of stand up comedy, I guess. Karen just deserves...everything.

**_August 3 rd, 1986._ **

Jonathan was pretty well aware that his car could only handle so much speed, but the urgency of the situation required him to push it well beyond his usual comfort levels. Nancy was anxiously turning in the seat, clutching Jonathan’s camera and watching the road for anyone following them.

“How much farther to Murray’s?” he asked her.

“It’s not far,” she said. “Twenty more minutes?”

She’d left him a message, but she knew he checked his machine with a shocking irregularity, even now. Plus, he probably wasn’t even at home. He was probably with Ms. Byers. “Did your mom answer?” she asked, thinking back to the gas station pay phone where they’d spotted the SUV.

“No.”

Nancy’s heart hammered in her chest, unable to cope with the information they had finally uncovered. After so many hopeless months, they were so close.

And they’d been seen.

Headlights blinded them. She felt Jonathan fling his arm out to grab her as he jerked the wheel away from the oncoming lights. “Nance, hang on!”

The whole world was full of crunching metal and crackling gravel. Nancy came back to her senses against the roof of the car, blood in her mouth and stinging at her eyes. Dragging herself out of the shattered wreck, she couldn’t even look around.

“Jonathan?” she called hoarsely, spitting blood onto the ground.

“I’m okay,” he called wearily, from somewhere on the other side of the car.

She heard heavy footsteps, and smelled gasoline. She knew what they would do. Like they had done to Will. Coughing again, her mind rattled for a solution. She needed them to know she was _alive_. She needed a sign that they would find, that They wouldn’t.

Gritting her teeth, she grabbed a handful of her hair, at her temple where blood had already pooled, and yanked, pressing the lock into the rain-soft dirt and pushing it down with a small white rock, stained with blood.

Maybe they’d get the message, maybe they wouldn’t.

Her head throbbed as she felt a boot in her back.

They’d have to find it without her, she guessed.


	2. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spend every season deeply unimpressed with ted wheeler to the point where he had one line this season and i was still like GET WRECKED TED.

**_July 9 th, 1986._ **

Karen Wheeler had woken up expecting a normal day. She had risen before Ted, like she always did. She had gotten ready for the day, woken up the kids, prepared breakfast, and seen Ted out the door for his normal workday. Like she always did.

She had taken Holly to the pool after dropping off Mike at Dustin’s and spending a few minutes complimenting Claudia’s flower beds, scratching little Tews behind the ear. They had spent the afternoon splashing around and sunning. She met Nancy for lunch, and they had a nice conversation. She felt like they had gotten closer since last summer, with all the horrible things that had happened. Nancy was leaving for college in a month or so and Karen was proud of her, but dreading losing her to the big city.

Karen thought life had been going well. She had been a little unsatisfied last year. She realized carrying on flirting with Billy Hargrove had been wrong, and she found a renewed loyalty to Ted and the kids from it. She shouldn’t stand in her own way, wishing things weren’t what they were _. Be happy with what you have,_ her mother had always told her, _a lot of people aren’t so lucky as you._

Maybe she had noticed Ted had been a little distant, but she always chalked that up to work. He worked hard at the office. She knew that sometimes she wasn’t as talkative as she should be after a particularly taxing day, so she always excused that in him.

“Can you drop Mike off at Dustin’s?” Ted said, shirking one of his only weekday parental jobs, not for the first time. He seemed less tired than usual when he made this request. “I just had a long day,” he vaguely excused.

Nancy had left before they’d even cleared the table, saying something about helping Steve and Robin with something at their apartment. She never elaborated on anything she did, but now that she’d graduated, Karen supposed she didn’t really need to.

“Mike? You ready to go?” she asked.

“I can just ride my bike,” he insisted.

“I think it’d be better if I dropped you this time,” she said. The past few years had been fraught for the children of Hawkins, and Karen did worry a little bit. “What if you get heat stroke?” she said. “Or caught in another explosion?”

“Ugh, Mom, I wasn’t even inside the mall when it happened,” he said. Turning 15 had not made Mike a less petulant kid, and he was taller than her now. She hated her kids growing up, but at the same time, it was wonderful. “Can I drive, at least?”

He had been practicing in the neighborhood, mostly with Nancy’s instruction.

So she sat patiently in the passenger’s seat as Mike carefully reversed out of the driveway, pulling out of the neighborhood, and stopping roughly at the stop sign. “Be gentler on the brakes, Michael,” she said. “You’re doing a really good job, though!”

Mike smiled, turning and driving towards the Henderson’s neighborhood, two streets over from their own. He made it, though his turn into Claudia’s driveway was a little rougher. He was still learning, but he was a smart kid, and she thought he’d been driving like a pro in no time.

She insisted on a hug, kissing him on the forehead while he bashfully shrugged her off. “Be good for Ms. Henderson, I’ll pick you up tomorrow before dinner if you aren’t home before that.”

“Okay Mom. See ya!”

It took her an extra minute to right the car to get it out of the driveway without scraping Claudia’s Volvo, but she managed and headed back home.

She walked in the door to Ted walking out of it, her suitcase in his hand.

“Ted?”

He had clearly been trying to get out of the door before she got back, and she was completely confounded by why that would be, or what was happening.

The five-minute conversation that followed almost didn’t process in Karen’s head as she stood in the doorway, listening to him rattle off his excuses and his non-apologies, finally getting to the thesis of the whole speech. She wasn’t sure exactly what was said, but she got the gist.

Leaving. Secretary. Affair. Bye.

Of course, she had no idea of any of that. She had always somewhat arrogantly assumed that Ted understood that she was almost _too_ perfect of a wife for him. She’d fallen in love with his ambition and his easy-going nature, but she’d never given in to complacency. She’d even upgraded her look when it seemed like he had emotionally checked out.

But to found out he had slept with Abby Williams?

Abby Williams could barely reload the tape on a typewriter and had the attention span of a _gnat_.

She was twenty-eight, though, which Karen no longer was.

Rage slammed the door behind Ted, dabbing away tears while she hunted down the wine bottle and the little rolodex where she kept important phone numbers. Picking up the phone, she hesitated to call any of her friends. They had all made such terrible comments when Claudia and Joyce had gone through their divorces. She had been just as complicit, not sticking up for them when she should have. They all knew Lonnie Byers was better off in the garbage, and Frank Henderson had been no one’s favorite neighbor. And yet, it was still somehow Joyce’s fault? Or Claudia’s?

She’d never be able to face them.

So, she called Joyce.

“Hey Joyce, I know it’s kind of an odd time, but I wanted to see if you had a minute to talk,” she choked out.

“Everything all right, Karen?” Joyce said immediately. She was always so attuned to other people. Karen had no idea how she did it.

“I just…uh. Well, get this!” she said, falsely brightening her tone. “Ted left me!”

“Oh…oh… _really_? _Ted_?”

“That’s what I said!” she said, taking a long drink straight from the bottle. “Me! Of all people!”

“Well. We can talk about it, if you need to. Or anything else, if that would be better,” Joyce said.

“I’d like that.”


	3. 2

**July 18 th, 1986.**

News traveled around Hawkins before she even finished packing Ted’s things. Within a week, they all knew. It was the talk of the town. Most people regarded her with sympathy. Pity. Sad glances as she shopped and continued her usual routine, pretending that nothing had changed, but everyone in Hawkins noticed that maybe she hadn’t washed her hair since Tuesday, and her lipstick was conspicuously absent.

She knew what they whispered when she wasn’t around.

_“Did you hear about Karen and Ted? You gotta wonder…I mean…look at him. Look at her.”_

_“Gotta wonder what Abby Williams is doing that she wasn’t…”_

She’d done _everything_. Literally. Everything. Ted could barely tear his focus away from fried chicken when their children’s friends died. She’d been reliably there for nineteen years. She’d cleaned, cooked, raised children, maintained her figure, initiated sex, balanced a budget, and still had time for all the hobbies and social obligations expected of her.

She couldn’t have ambitions outside of the home, but God forbid she was ever too tired to go to some stuffy work event and drink cheap wine, drowning in a sea of beige suits.

There had been a point in her life, before Ted, that she’d thought to do something more than she’d done. Of course, having kids had always been part of the plan, but maybe she could have done other things, too. Tara Sinclair had a great job and was still a good mom. Everyone had always told her she wasn’t smart enough to do much else but have kids. The world had always decided what her top priority would be. She couldn’t remember a time when she thought of what she would do selfishly. When she’d gotten married, she thought she’d still have time for herself, but she’d always been the first to sacrifice her free time for other people. She’d thought maybe things would change now that the kids were older.

Holly was starting kindergarten in a month. Karen had signed up for a painting class at the community rec center. She’d been looking forward to it.

As she lay on the couch, two weeks removed from That Night, and really unable to do much more than watch Jeopardy. She’d gotten Nancy to order Mike and Holly a pizza. Two-day old mascara was caked around her eyes, her hair was in her face.

She finally just gave up.

She’d spent a couple of days expecting him to come crawling back, then refusing to break out of pride, but a sadness had gotten inside of her and now she couldn’t shake it.

“Mom?”

Nancy knelt down next to the couch, a hand on Karen’s shoulder.

“Have you gotten off the couch today?” she asked.

Karen wiped her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nancy, of course I have.”

“It doesn’t count if it was just to go to the bathroom,” Nancy said, gently coaxing Karen into a sitting position and scooting in next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Dad’s a _shithead_ ,” she said. “But you’re too strong to let this beat you. You’re a fighter, remember? Like me. If you need more time to be sad, that’s okay, but let me help you out.”

“Oh, no, sweetie, I don’t need…I’m okay. I’ll be okay,” she said, her voice hoarse and unfamiliar.

“No, you’re not. And that’s fine. Dad _left_. No one expects you to be okay with that. I’m going to Jonathan’s for the weekend, why don’t we make a trip of it? You, me and Mike. Holly could come too, I bet. Or Dad could watch her. You could spend some time with Joyce. I think she’s been lonely since they moved, and you could use the distraction. Right?”

“Oh, I’d hate to impose,” she said, though it sounded nice.

“It’ll be fun. I promise. We should do it.”

“All right. As long as Joyce says it’s okay, and your dad can watch Holly.” Even being as angry with Ted as she was, she trusted him to be a good dad, even if he’d been a piss poor excuse for a husband. She doubted Nancy would let him worm his way out of taking Holly for a daddy-daughter weekend, either. Nancy rarely accepted ‘no’ when she got her heart set on something.

That was where they had always differed. Karen had learned how to give up, and she never wanted Nancy or Holly to learn that lesson.


	4. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a plot underneath these chapters of ladies supporting ladies but honestly...i'm having too much fun with it! thanks for all your nice comments! you should follow me on tumblr @murraybaeman

So, they set out on the three-hour drive to Joyce’s new place in Mt. Vernon, Illinois that morning, after dropping off Holly at the new apartment Ted had secured in town. They spoke briefly, and he informed her that he was thinking of putting in a transfer to Indianapolis soon. Apparently, he hadn’t anticipated that ditching his wife for a secretary would drop his standing at the neighborhood barbecue, but that was a classic Ted move. He didn’t think a lot about other people, and always assumed things would always be the way they were supposed to be, as if his own behavior would just never matter.

Nancy bought snacks, didn’t force Karen to do any of the driving, instead trusting her with the map and the radio. They sang along to all the worst songs, Mike grumbling bad naturedly in the back seat.

When the road got flat and straight, Nancy pulled over and let Mike practice a little bit of driving.

“Don’t intentionally scare him, Nancy,” Karen scolded through a mouthful of red vines when Nancy play-jumped from the backseat, laughing when Mike yelped.

“He’s gotta be prepared for everything!” she said.

“You suck, Nancy,” he grumbled, pulling into the gas station and allowing his sister to regain control of the car.

Karen sat there while they filled the tank, wondering if she’d keep the car when the divorce went through. She didn’t know what would happen to Mike and Holly, either. She hadn’t had a job since before Nancy was born, she wasn’t exactly a thrilling potential hire for employers. She’d need one, though.

She was broken from it by the car starting again. Nancy elbowed her slightly.

“Chin up, okay? Halfway there.”

The rest of the drive was uneventful, and she lost herself in the Illinois scenery and the pop radio that Mike kept whining about. He’d developed a taste for the obscure, angry stuff that Jonathan Byers seemed to lean towards. Probably a result of Jonathan driving him to and from Hawkins so much this summer, so Mike could see Will and his little girlfriend.

Joyce’s house in Mount Vernon was not unlike her house in Hawkins. A little bigger, maybe, a little newer. She’d gotten money from the government last year after Will and Jonathan had nearly been trapped in that mall fire, as well as from Jim Hopper’s estate so she could take in El. They’d all gotten a settlement for the damages to the cars and the kids. Karen had quietly put theirs in the kids’ college fund, except enough to replace the station wagon, which had been battered in the confusion.

A single-story house at the end of a long dirt road, not too close to town, but still close enough. There was a shed out back, and bikes strewn across the yard.

She was so happy to see it. She had driven by the Byers’ empty house a lot in the 9 months since they’d left, and she was always struck by wishing Joyce was still there. They hadn’t been close friends, but she always liked catching up with her. Joyce’s life had been so marred by tragedy lately, she almost felt selfish for coming to her for comfort for something as petty as a divorce.

They walked up on the porch, Mike busting the door open before she could raise a fist to knock.

“Michael!”

Will and El had been waiting behind the door, clearly peeking out the window waiting for the Wheeler family’s arrival. Will threw his arms around Mike, El joining in. Jonathan came out of the kitchen, clutching a sandwich.

“Hey Mrs. W,” he said, navigating around his siblings to give her an oddly sincere hug. Ted had never liked Jonathan as a partner for Nancy, but she thought he brought out a lot of good qualities in Nance, and he was a lot like his mom. He worried and fussed and took care of the people he loved, and Nancy sometimes needed a little bit of that, because she’d forget to do it herself.

His hug was communicating a silent understanding that made her throat tighten.

“I didn’t mean to get crumbs on your shirt,” he said quietly. Nancy kissed him on the cheek as they moved into the house. “Mom is in the living room. With –”

She turned and found herself in the doorway to the living room, and Joyce was sitting on the couch with a man she only vaguely recognized. They were looking at papers together.

“Oh, Karen!” Joyce yelped, almost knocking her coffee over in surprise. “You’re early!”

“Nancy drives like an absolute demon,” she said, allowing herself to be hugged again. “I’m sorry to intrude!”

“Oh, you’re not intruding at all,” she said, seemingly steering Karen out of the living room. “I was just about to get started making lunch. We can get Jonathan and the boys to unload the car and we can take over the kitchen and catch up.” Her smile was warm and sincere, but she did seem distracted.

Her friend from the living room had gotten up and cleared the table, holding a folder conspicuously behind his back. He was tall, and she recognized him once he turned to look at her.

“You’re that journalist,” she offered, snapping her fingers when she couldn’t remember his name. “Bauman?”

“Murray Bauman, yes,” he said, though his hair was shorter than the last time she’d seen him, and his beard might have been different? They had only briefly crossed paths in the aftermath of the Starcourt fire and Jim Hopper’s funeral. Nancy had introduced him as the man who had found out what happened to Barb. She seemed to like him but seemed intent on keeping him from conversation with Karen and Ted, so Karen wasn’t sure.

“Right. Good to see you again, I suppose,” she said to his retreating back.

“Joyce, I’ll call you,” he said, his tone a little disdainful. He gave Nancy the briefest one-armed hug before he vanished out the door.

“I hope I wasn’t…interrupting anything?” Karen asked, turning back to Joyce.

She pulled a face that Karen didn’t know how to interpret. “Oh, no. He drinks, so sometimes he ends up on the couch when he visits.” She laughed, as though that was very typical and very funny, her smile awkward and stiff. “Kids, scoot out of the way. Let the grownups have the space,” she said, and like magic every teenager within the ten-foot radius just seemed to vanish.

“El and Will have been building a fort out back, I think it’s finally camp-worthy, so I’ll probably have you bunk in El’s room tonight and let them take their sleeping bags out there. Will can stay between Mike and El pretty effectively, you know.”

They both snorted. “Sounds like I plan. I’m sure her room is cleaner than Will’s.”

“Only a little. He mostly just leaves his socks everywhere.”

Joyce started preparing a pot of tea and fussing over what to make for lunch. “It might be a little rustic today. Grilled cheese, maybe? Oh, I think I have stuff to make hamburgers, and we picked up a little grill last time we were in town. We could do that for dinner.”

“Anything will be wonderful. I’ll do whatever you instruct me to.”

“Well, my first instruction would be for you to tell me how you’re doing. Nance was worried when she called me the other day.”

“It’s been…hard,” she admitted. “I want to get it over with but…”

“Can’t bear to go get the paperwork started?” Joyce supplied when she faltered. “It’s like admitting defeat. I know.”

“God, I _know_.”

Joyce brewed a pot of tea, but covertly reached into the cabinets and brought out of a bottle of red. “I know it’s only lunch time, but I think maybe we should start early today. Just this once.”

“You know what? I’m on board,” she said.

Joyce poured them both glasses and they started assembling some grilled cheese sandwiches, both giggling a little by the end of their first glass. “Look, honestly, I was betting it would be the other way around.”

“What?” she gawked.

“Oh, come on. Ted? He’s so boring, and you’re so fun! It doesn’t make any sense!” Joyce crowed.

“I’m not going to pretend I didn’t think about it once or twice,” she said, sighing a little. “But I mean. I wanted to be loyal to my family! I wanted things to work! I loved him, even when it seemed like he was checked out!”

Joyce huffs. “Men never put in the effort,” she said, refilling their glasses.

“Mom!” Nancy said, walking back inside with Jonathan and eyeing their wine.

“What? I’m just having a moment,” she said, grilled cheese sandwich in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. “Join in, if you want!”

“I’m glad you’re feeling a little better,” Nancy said, her tone measured. She took a sandwich, but not any of the offered wine.

Karen and Joyce burst into renewed giggles.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to!” Karen said. “How’s Illinois?”

Joyce finished her sandwich and shrugged. “It’s quieter, certainly. The school is good. I miss my friends in Hawkins, of course, but…”

“I mean, after everything you went through, I don’t think anyone could blame you for leaving,” Karen said, as the mood in the room plunged down. “What happened with Chief Hopper was terrible. And so soon after Bob? I couldn’t even _imagine_ …” A shudder past through her.

Chewing on her lower lip, Joyce nodded. “It was hard. But I have my boys, and El. They helped me get through it.”

“I wish I was as strong as you,” Karen said. “You keep moving forward even after all of that, and I can barely get off the couch because my idiot husband stuck it in his secretary.”

“ _Mom_! Gross!” Mike wailed, coming in to steal a few of their rapidly growing mountain of sandwiches for the clubhouse.

“Sorry, Michael,” she said, ruffling his hair.

“You’re strong too, Karen. Sometimes it takes bad stuff to really tap into it. Or that’s what I’ve found for me, at least.”


	5. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to update before I left for my vacation last week but I was in a hurry and forgot, so I'm gonna double update today! Anyway, enjoy some snark to snark combat between my fave loser adults. (I love them but every one of them is a Loser.)

\--

The next weekend, she struck out for Joyce’s place again, with a bottle of wine and a cooler full of snacks and the intention of paying back Joyce for being such a good host to her last time. They had spoken on the phone a couple of times since the Wheelers had returned to Hawkins, mostly coordinating more summer meetups for the kids, but she found the other woman so endlessly comforting. Claudia was the only other mom she felt like she could talk to about this, because Claudia was always happy to devolve into a little bit of light-hearted man-bashing when the situation called for it. 

Nancy had agreed to watch her siblings, and Jonathan had briefly mentioned bringing the Byers’ up to Hawkins to see the rest of their friends, leaving Joyce alone for the weekend. She was sure Joyce needed a little bit of me-time.

And an afternoon of Mom Time would be a great way to start it off.

Joyce was on the porch when she pulled up. Jonathan’s car was gone, so she assumed he’d already left.

“Hey,” she said, putting her sunglasses on her head as she shut the door to the car.

Joyce walked down to help her with the cooler and bag. “Packed heavy?”

“I just wanted to repay you for last week. I drank your wine and ate your food and didn’t do much in return! I thought I’d bring the food today,” she said. “Plus, I called over to the local spa and booked us massages for later.”

“That’s too much, Karen!”

“Oh, Ted owes me, so we’re doing it,” she said, grinning.

Joyce relented her protests and they brought the food inside. Karen launched into making them a fun little salad she’d seen on the cooking channel; it was a good but light lunch. No use in getting too full before a massage.

“Have you figured out what you’re going to do?” Joyce asked, hearkening back to a conversation they’d had a few nights ago.

“I’m going to start looking for work when Holly starts school. Once we sit down with Ted’s lawyer, we’ll figure out what to do about the house. I imagine we’ll sell, and I’ll take some of the sale to find something a little smaller, since it’ll just be me, Holly and Mike.” Finally having the nerve to talk logistics with Ted had been daunting, and he’d almost been shocked, as if he hadn’t expected her to think of the practical side of this arrangement. They had to legally separate for a year before they could finalize anything, and she wanted to get that part over with.

“You’re handling it really well,” she said.

“It’s hasn’t even been a month, maybe I’m still in shock,” Karen said.

“Maybe you just know you deserve better. When you know that, it’s easier to move on.”

She hoped that was it. She wanted her resolve to stay strong. She felt like, the further she got from that day, the clearer her vision got. She hadn’t been treated well, and she’d been betrayed. And she was going to do the best thing for herself and her kids and move on. Holding onto something miserable would just eat away at her from the inside, and what kind of message did it send to her daughters? Her son?

“I did deserve better, didn’t I?” she said, frowning.

“Absolutely.”

“Do you want to hit the pool before the massages?” Karen asked. “I mean. Does Mount Vernon have a pool?”

“We do. Let’s do it,” she said, though Joyce had never been a ‘poolside’ mom. She was pale and a little awkward in that way. But they would have fun, and they didn’t really know anyone else, so there was no concern about being judged. Karen found herself caring much less about the judgment of others with each passing day.

They applied their sunscreen and found a nice spot to themselves, watching kids play and moms sun themselves. The lifeguard was a college aged boy with long hair, and Karen frowned, thinking about Billy Hargrove for a brief second. Mike had told her, too far after the fact, that he had been bullying the boys, that he’d hurt Steve when he stuck up for them, and he’d targeted Lucas _specifically_. She wished her kids would trust her with things like that when they happened, and not a year later when 30 people died in a fire.

Karen wondered how she’d been so gullible and naïve. When had she ever been blinded by a pretty face? She’d married Ted! And he’d always been handsome to her, especially when they were young, but it hadn’t been the only thing she’d liked about him. She’d always prided herself in liking the smart ones, or the funny ones.

Maybe she’d just been kidding herself the whole time, trying to do something different than the girls she’d been friends with who all married an avalanche of identical square-jawed, boring suits.

They lounged for a while, swam a few laps, and then cleaned themselves up to go to their massage. They were in the same room – it had really been a discount for a ‘couple’s’ massage, but they had never specified what _sort_ of couple, so that was on them, right?

“I have literally never met someone more tense,” she heard the young girl massaging Joyce say.

“Sounds about right,” Joyce muttered with a breathy chuckle.

The whole process was heaven. She hadn’t gotten a professional massage since her honeymoon. The tension physically uncoiling in her back and neck felt like her issues just flying off into space, unable to bother her anymore.

She knew reality would come back to get her eventually, but for now…nothing but bliss.

Thirty full minutes of just breathing and relaxing.

She felt like cooked pasta, in the best way possible. Like her muscles couldn’t hold even a bit of tension, and neither could her heart. It was wonderful.

When they got back to Joyce’s house, there was another car parked in front of it. Joyce mumbled a swear under her breath and all the tension they’d so meticulously done away with seemed to return to her as they walked inside.

“I thought you were coming by _tomorrow_ ,” Joyce said, when they entered the kitchen to find Murray Bauman doing the dishes they had left from lunch, a bottle of vodka open next to him.

Karen was still a little too relaxed to gather her thoughts coherently, rather wondering if he’d worn the bathrobe here or changed into it when he’d arrived. Both offered concerning mental images.

“My mistake,” he said. There was a natural tilt of condescension in his voice, like everything he said was being forced out of him and his natural demeanor was just sneering at people and never deigning to speak to them.

“Since you’re here, I suppose you’ll be staying for dinner,” Karen said, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the wine bottle, looking over the various groceries she had stuffed into the space earlier.

“No, he can leave,” Joyce said, at the same time that Murray said “Sure, I guess.”

They glared at each other, and Joyce was the one who relented.

“Fine. Stay.”

Karen couldn’t figure out what was going on with this situation. She had only met Murray the two brief moments and couldn’t figure out how Joyce knew him at all. She guessed they’d met through Hopper.

Even exasperated, Joyce formally greeted Murray with a brief hug after she put down their bags and joined Karen in prepping for dinner. She kept looking over at him surreptitiously, as if expecting him to do or say something terrible.

Maybe they were seeing each other and just keeping it quiet. She had heard that single parents had to be judicious with dating, as to not upset the kids.

She guessed that would be something she’d have to consider if she ever wanted to date again.

They didn’t seem to have much of a romantic charge between them, but she’d only been standing there for five minutes, so maybe she was missing something.

“So, uh, Mr. Bauman –”

“Murray, please,” he said, not in a gregarious way. More like an eye roll.

“Murray,” she corrected, scoffing in response. He turned and gave her a _look_. “What is it that you’re doing now? I know you work _ed_ as a journalist…” Or at least that’s what Nancy had told her, and to her it had explained Nancy’s new career path perfectly. He’d found out what had happened to Barb and gotten Nancy the closure she needed. Now Nancy wanted to do that too.

She did wish maybe Nancy could have found a mentor that was less of a butthole.

“I do private investigating now,” he said. “And freelance work.”

“That’s fascinating,” she said, chopping garlic. _(“‘Freelance’ was a fancy word that meant ‘unemployed’,” someone who sounded both like her own dad and also like Ted said in the back of her head.)_

“And what is it you do, Mrs. Wheeler?” he asked.

“Call me Karen, please,” she said, trying not to sound too friendly either. If he wanted to be a butthole, well, two could play at that. “I work in the home at the moment, but in the fall when my youngest starts school full time, I plan on finding outside employment.”

Joyce had paused from washing lettuce to glare at her friend with a stare that could absolutely kill.

“I’m sure you’ll make a great secretary,” he deadpanned, leaning against the counter and watching them as they cooked.

“ _Murray_.”

“He’s fine Joyce. He can be as judgmental as he wants, considering he doesn’t actually _have_ a job,” she said, sipping her wine in satisfaction when his jaw dropped.

Joyce refilled her wine glass, shaking her head and muttering under her breath.


	6. 5

Despite Mr. Bauman’s presence, they’d had a lovely evening, and Karen intended to invite Joyce up to Hawkins for another weekend away from the kids soon. And away from Murray. She couldn’t quite get a read on that whole situation. They seemed close, certainly, but also at odds with each other at the same time. Maybe more like siblings than lovers.

“Nancy, where you going?” she asked, a little disappointed to see her daughter rushing out the door.

“Oh, me and Jonathan are heading to Mount Vernon for the weekend.”

“Can I come?” Mike asked.

“No,” Nancy said, too sharply.

Somehow, Mike relented, his expression melting from hope to worry.

Nancy took a deep breath. “Sorry it’s sort of sudden, I just realized I had agreed to help him do some painting this weekend like…days ago. I forgot.” She seemed distracted enough to have forgotten, that was for sure.

Karen frowned. “Okay. So, he’s picking you up?”

“Yeah, he was in town to do some pictures for the downtown restoration group. It made more sense to ride together.” She was calming down now, adjusting her backpack. Ted would never approve of this unsanctioned weekend at Jonathan’s, but Karen didn’t care. They were adults, now, and Nancy could more than take care of herself. Though she seemed too distressed for a weekend with her boyfriend, right now. Karen wondered if something had happened.

She was just flustered that she’d forgotten, that was all. Right?

“I was visiting Joyce the other weekend,” she said, standing on the porch and waiting for Jonathan with Nancy. “Murray Bauman was there.”

She looked even more on edge, somehow. “Oh…really?”

“Yep. He’s an asshole, Nance. I know you respect him, but _wow_.” She laughed as Nancy looked at her, a little startled by her blunt language.

Nancy finally chuckled. “He is. That’s why we get along so well. I’m kind of an asshole too,” she said.

“Maybe sometimes,” Karen joked. “Is there something going on between him and Joyce?” she asked.

Nancy looked like she’d just implied that _Ted_ had slept with Joyce. “Oh, uhm. I don’t think so? I think they’re just close.” She still hadn’t shaken the disturbed expression at the notion of it.

Jonathan pulled up a few moments later, and Nancy kissed her mom on the cheek and said goodbye. “I’ll be back soon! Call Joyce’s if you need me!”

“Call me when you get there, so I know you’re safe. Even if it’s late!” Karen called back, waving to Jonathan and watching them drive off before she stepped back inside.

“Hey Mike, I’m going to go to the video store. Will you watch Holly?” she said, thinking maybe a family movie night was in order.

“Ugh, I guess,” he said, scoffing.

“Any requests?”

“ _Return of the Living Dead_!” he said immediately. “It just came out on video the other week. Haven’t gotten to see it yet!”

“All right. I’ll see if they have it. Be good, I’ll only be gone a few minutes,” she said. Going to the video store without the kids was mostly a pretense, a way to get out of the house and drive for a moment, clearing her head and trying to push down the anxiety that Nancy had stirred up in her. Was she in some kind of trouble? She knew her kids didn’t tell her things they should. They kept it from her when they were being bullied, when they had girlfriends and boyfriends, when they were lurking around town stirring up trouble…

But if it were really important, Nancy would have told her. She was just frazzled. Right?

Karen felt better by the time she got to the video store, walking in to see Steve Harrington and his friend Robin at the front counter, pretending to clean to pass the last hour that the store was open. They were talking quietly, with some urgency behind it, but fell conspicuously silent when she entered. It was a familiar feeling, though unlike the girls at the nail salon, she doubted they had been gossiping about her specifically.

“Hey Mrs. Wheeler,” Steve said. He seemed to catch himself and shake his head. “Sorry –”

“Oh, the divorce won’t go through for a year, Mrs. Wheeler is fine,” she said, the picture of casual.

“I like that attitude,” Robin said. “Kick him to the curb. You don’t need him!”

She’d seen more of Steve in the last year than she had since he and Nancy’s breakup. They had apparently come out the other side friends. She wondered if Robin had anything to do with that, though they acted more like siblings than potential partners, so it was probably just a case of all parties maturing on their own. Such was life.

“Mike wants _Return of the Living Dead_ …do you have any copies?”

“Yeah, we got it,” Robin said, slipping out from behind the counter and leading her over. “He’ll like it.”

“Good. Now I need to find something for me and Holly,” she said, thoughtfully.

Robin helped her find something that would be age appropriate for Holly and she thanked them for their help and headed home, giving Mike his video. Lucas, Max, and Dustin had somehow miraculously appeared at the house, too, so she sent them downstairs with the movie and some snacks and put on the cartoon for Holly, who fell asleep halfway through.

“Michael?” she called down the stairs, before she put herself to bed.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“Did your sister call while I was out?”

“No, not yet!”

“Well, stay off the phone so she can get through, okay?” she said, knowing he mostly used his radio for talking to Will and El.

“Fine, Mom.”

“Night kids. _Behave_.”

“We will, Mrs. Wheeler!” Max assured her sweetly before Mike could say something snarky.

How had she survived raising two teenagers? And in a few years, she’d have another one? At least the other two would be out of the house by then, hopefully. She put on her eye cream and her leave-in conditioner, grabbing her newest book and resuming where she’d left off the other night.

She kept glancing over at the phone on her bedside table.

She sighed.

She probably just forgot.

It was late when she finally dozed off, dreams of Graeme McGuiness, the muscle-bound kilt-wearing hero of _The Lady of the Loch,_ interrupted by less fortunate dreams. Nothing that she could exactly pin down, just a general anxiety that plagued her rest.

The phone didn’t stir her form her sleep at all that night, and she woke early, her heart fluttering.

They probably just fell asleep at Joyce’s as soon as they got there, she told herself.

She called Joyce anyway.

“Hello?” she asked, sounding oddly alert for seven in the morning on a Saturday.

“Sorry, Joyce, it’s so early. Nancy was supposed to call me when she got to your house last night. …She left with Jonathan around 7?” she said, pausing to take a breath.

“Let me go check Jonathan’s room really quick,” Joyce said, but Karen found something in her tone unconvincing. There was a shuffle and the thud of a door. “They never made it here last night…” she said.

Her stomach dropped. “Oh.”

“They might have gotten tired and stopped a motel. I’ll have her call you as soon as I see her,” she said.

“Thanks, Joyce.”

There was a terse silence between them. “I’m making a trip to Hawkins, soon,” Joyce said. “We should get dinner.”

“Absolutely!” she said, but her sincere hope of spending time with Joyce wasn’t enough to truly cut through the worry. “Well, if you hear from them, I know you’ll pass them along my way. Have a good weekend, Joyce.”

“You too, Karen.”

She hung up, not fully placated, but willing to wait a few more hours before allowing herself to descend into full-blown panic. Joyce had sounded worried, but not overly so. That meant that maybe things were fine.

She went about her day like everything was ordinary. The only call she got was Claudia, requesting a casserole recipe from a potluck a few months ago, and she was almost happy for the distraction for a moment.

“Mike, have you heard from your sister?” she asked as Mike made a beeline for the door after lunch, ready to rejoin his friends. “I know your radios are all…fancy…” She struggled for a better description.

Mike frowned. “She hasn’t checked in?” he asked, fiddling with his walkie-talkie.

“No, and I talked to Joyce a few hours ago and she said she hadn’t seen them either.”

A look of strange concern passed over her son. She liked to think she knew her children well enough to know what they were thinking, but Mike’s relationship with Nancy was ever-changing. It wasn’t like him to be anxiously worried over her disappearing with a boyfriend. He’d usually just scoff and say they were fooling around and forgot.

“I don’t know, Mom. Probably just crashed at a motel and got some breakfast and lost track of time?” he said, recovering after a moment, shrugging it off. “I’m sure she’ll call.”

“If you hear anything from Will or El about them getting there, call the house and let me know,” she said to his retreating back.

Faintly she heard the buzz of his radio. “ _Scoops Troop, this is Griswold 3, do you copy?”_

She drank a glass of wine and started a puzzle with Holly, distracting herself for a little while. She was just about to start dinner when the phone finally rang.

“Wheeler residence,” she said, forcing calm.

“Mrs. Wheeler, I’m with the highway patrol…”


	7. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly so far ahead on this fic that i can basically update as much as i feel like. also nice comments make me write more and make me smile when i get the notifications during a long work day. but kudos are pretty life-sustaining too. even just reading it, thats good. the fact that my self-indulgent nonsense is entertaining anyone but me is great.

It was dark by the time she got to the stretch of Illinois road the highway patrolman had instructed her to find. It was a hot night, and the insects were singing around them. This patch of highway was unfamiliar to her. She had been to Mount Vernon twice, and never taken this way to get there. So why was she here?

Joyce was already there, sitting against the hood of her car, staring at the burnt-out husk of her son’s car. Both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, Murray was there too, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, regarding the cops swarming the scene with suspicion.

“I’m Sergeant Heller,” one said, shaking her hand. “I’m really sorry to make you drive so far. The hospital is about four miles east of here, you can follow us for…identification purposes.”

Her stomach turned.

The phone call had, much like Ted’s speech about leaving, not made any significant impact on her memory. She knew the message she had received but could not tell you the name of the cop or what precisely he said.

Accident. Nancy. Fire. Dead?

She couldn’t even…she couldn’t fathom it. Couldn’t…

“From what we can tell, they were trapped…” he said. She immediately blocked it out again. He left her alone with a hazy agreement to meet at the hospital. At the morgue. To identify her daughter’s corpse.

She was freezing cold.

“Karen…” Joyce called, but for that moment, she just needed to walk. She walked away from the officers and all the other people gathered, down the sharp embankment, towards the car. It was blackened and twisted and looked how she felt on the inside.

How could she explain this to Michael? She sent him and Holly to Claudia’s with no explanation, and had tried to call Ted, but hung up on the first ring. She _couldn’t_ do it. Couldn’t tell them…

Staring at the dirt, it all blurred together, until a glint of white caught her eye. Something delicate blowing in the slight summer breeze.

She knelt down. A smooth white rock. A bloody thumbprint.

A hunk of hair. Ripped out at the scalp.

Nancy’s hair.

_Nancy’s hair?_

She thought maybe she was seeing things. But…the rock was real, the edge of the thumbprint smeared when she touched it.

The hair was real, too. It felt soft in her hand.

‘ _They were trapped,_ ’ he had said. That she remembered. That didn’t make sense.

She shoved it in her pocket, a gruesome souvenir, and joined Joyce at the top of the hill. Joyce grabbed her into a bone-cracking hug. “Karen, oh my god. Are you --?”

“I’m…I’m okay,” she said, her mouth dry, and she was so far from okay.

_What was going on here?_

“Do you want to ride with us to the hospital?” Joyce said in a low voice.

Karen’s whole body was shaking too hard to drive even another second. “Okay,” she said in a small voice. Her car was parked a five-minute walk up the road at a rest stop, and it would be safe there. She collapsed into the back seat, and Murray drove them to the hospital in silence.

She watched him through the rearview mirror, and not only was he – seemingly for once -- utterly speechless, he looked grief-stricken on par with her or Joyce. They’d just lost their kids. What had he lost?

They didn’t talk. None of them were hysterically weeping. She didn’t know how to rationalize what she had found with what she had been told, and the evidence she had been shown. Murray stayed in the car when they got to the hospital.

They met Sergeant Heller at the door, and he led them to the morgue, his face grim.

The rock was still in her pocket. She could feel the weight of it as they descended into a freezing cold basement.

They were shown bodies burnt beyond recognition. The general shape could certainly be Nancy, but…doubt was creeping in, and she found herself staring at the blackened body trying to find some hint that it wasn’t truly her.

Joyce was muttering to the coroner, shaking her head insistently.

“So. Is this your daughter?”

“It’s impossible to say,” she said, her voice spiking hysterically, trying to keep the secret in her pocket from spilling out of her.

“We’re going to run some tests and we’ll call you with the results,” the Sergeant said. “It may take a few weeks for us to definitively know. I’m horribly sorry for this, ladies. Do you need an escort home?”

“No. We’ll be fine,” Joyce said sharply. She took Karen’s hand and, after signing a few pieces of paper neither of them really took in they exited the hospital together.

Karen’s heart was pounding. “Joyce, I need to talk to you…” she said, finally.

Joyce got in the front seat of the car, Karen in the back. Murray pulled out of the parking lot almost too quickly. Like they’d robbed a bank or something.

“Joyce, I need to talk to you!” she said, louder.

Joyce looked back at her, eyes red and wet. “Sorry. What is it?”

“You two need to tell me what’s going on!” she found herself nearly shouting at them. Murray had pulled into the rest stop and hit the brakes roughly at the sound of her raised voice.

“What…?” Joyce asked.

Oh, no. _She was crazy._ She had imagined all of it. If even Joyce didn’t suspect something amiss… “I felt like you were being secretive about something. Like, you were hiding something from me specifically. I got that feeling from Nancy, too. And Mike.” She took a deep breath. “I thought I was crazy. Or I thought you were sleeping with Murray and didn’t want to admit it.”

“Really?!” Joyce complained.

“When I got to the accident, I noticed that they weren’t even driving to Mount Vernon. This wasn’t the road we took the other weekend. I thought that was weird. And then…I found…” She wasn’t crazy. The rock was still in her pocket. She pulled it out, looked at the bloody smear across it, and her resolve strengthened. “If Nancy and Jonathan were trapped in a burning car and died…” she said, voice catching in her throat. “Then why did I find a handful of Nancy’s hair fifteen feet from the car, and her blood on the ground?”

Tension seemed to fill the car.

“Why would they lie to us about what happened?” she asked the air. “ _Where the hell is my daughter_?”


	8. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are so sweet!

“We can’t talk about it here,” was all Joyce said, and instead of getting Karen’s car, they peeled out of the parking lot again, back towards the accident site. She saw a tow truck dragging the car out of the dirt, and she sank back into the seat, willing it all to be a bad dream. “This is where they were going,” she said, after a twenty-minute drive. They pulled up into a driveway, Murray getting out to unlock a huge gate, pulling into what looked to be an abandoned warehouse.

“What _is_ this?”

“My house,” Murray said. He had lost his long-suffering, wry tone. He just sounded tired, now.

“Why were they coming here?” she asked, as Murray unlocked the three locks on his front door.

“Inside, then we talk,” he demanded, gritting his teeth.

She glared at him as she walked by him. Joyce turned around and hugged her, but unlike before, there was something like relief in it. She returned the gesture.

“I’m so sorry,” Joyce said, but Karen couldn’t have told you what she was sorry for.

Murray pulled Joyce away, leaning down to speak to her quietly. “We don’t have to… This is too dangerous… She can’t handle it.”

Raising up her full height, Joyce poked him in the shoulder. “I will not let another mother go through what I went through,” she hissed.

He seemed to take her meaning, shrinking back and holding up his hands. “Fine, fine. I can’t _wait_ for us to all die,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“What’s going on?” she pressed again, heartened by Joyce’s faith in her, but still shaking and baffled.

“Okay, so…short version,” Joyce said, wringing her hands. “Remember three years ago when Will went missing? And they thought he’d died?” she said. “He was actually…abducted, sort of? By a _monster_ that the Hawkins Lab had…unleashed. The lab was experimenting on children…Mike and the kids found El in the woods…she has psychic powers because of the experiments they did on her mother. Then they abducted her as a baby. She escaped.”

Karen fell back against the couch, trying to keep an open mind. She’d found the government swooping into her house that time so odd, but Ted had bought it. And nothing else had happened…

“Eventually, Hopper took her in. And when Will was sick…it was the lab, again. The monster. It killed Bob, but we thought that it had been taken care of. But then the Soviets came to Hawkins and tried to reopen this…gate…. It was under Starcourt. The monster got out again and killed all those people, including Max’s brother. He was possessed like Will had been. We blew up the mall to end it once and for all.”

Karen was completely silent for a few minutes. “What does any of this have to do with Nancy?”

“Barbara was killed by the monster that took Will,” Murray said. “Nancy found out after looking for her, but the government covered it up. They hired me to find Barb, and Nancy and Jonathan came to me to tell me what they knew so they could expose the lab and get closure for the Hollands. We concocted a story together that would be more palatable to the public, and the lab got shut down. Nancy found out about the monster’s return last year following a story.”

Karen’s heart dropped. She _remembered_ that story.

“You make it sound like it’s over, then.”

“No,” Joyce said, heavily. “This sounds insane. You don’t have to believe us, if you don’t want to.”

Karen laughed. “I just had an officer of the law lie to my face about my daughter being dead and show me a convincing fake corpse, I’m open to most anything at this point.”

“Well, that’s just a lesson about trusting cops.”

“He probably wasn’t even a cop,” Joyce said, swatting Murray. “Look, we’ve been working on something for a couple of months. Nancy and Jonathan were helping us. That’s why they were on their way here the other night. I think Nancy found something.”

They exchanged a look. Karen stayed quiet, trying to take it all in. Monsters and Russians and children with superpowers… It was a lot, but Hawkins _had_ been a strange place for the past few years. If believing it meant she might see her daughter again, she was willing to.

“We think Hopper’s alive and that the Soviets have him and they’re still trying to harness the power of these monsters,” Joyce rushed out. “And we suspect they’re working with the American doctor who kidnapped El when she was a baby.”

Karen ran a hand through her hair, exhaling loudly and staring up at the cracked ceiling. “What the fuck,” she said, a rare curse passing through her. “I thought my summer couldn’t get any worse. So…what do we do? Call the army? The president? France?”

Murray laughed. “There is literally no one we can trust in this scenario except each other,” he said. “No one. The government’s in on it. Since day one. And the ones who aren’t in on it are incompetent. You should just go back to Hawkins and wait it out and we’ll find Nancy and Jonathan,” he said.

“Are you _stupid_?” Karen asked.

He looked taken aback by her anger. “What?”

“Why would I just go back to Hawkins and… and do what? Pretend my daughter is dead and wait for someone else to figure this out? She’s _my_ daughter. She’s _my_ responsibility. I’ve apparently been on the sidelines of my kids being in danger for years, and I’m not doing it anymore.”

“I want you to help us,” Joyce said. “I do. I think Nancy had found something important, and that’s why she was coming here, and why they targeted her. I bet you could help us retrace her steps and figure out what she was trying to tell us.”

Karen nodded.

“Joyce.”

“ _Murray_.”

“It’s not safe,” he said, and rather than smugly condescending he just came off a little…desperate. “We can’t bring more people into this…”

“Don’t you care about finding Jonathan and Nancy?” Joyce snapped, her emotions clearly getting the better of her for a moment. Karen felt a rush of fondness for her.

He recoiled from the heat of it. “You know I do.” He paused and took a breath. “But what happens if you get yourself killed? Nancy comes back to a dead mom?” he asked, turning to Karen. “She’d never forgive me. We already did that to El. We need to be more careful this time.”

“I’m not leaving and pretending I didn’t hear any of this. I can’t act like I don’t know that my girl is alive out there somewhere,” Karen insisted, her tone softening. They were all just scared of whatever was in front of them. She wasn’t going to ignore it and accept the easy answer and wait. She’d taken too many easy roads in her life before.

“We _need_ help. Karen can help us.”

Murray gave up, going back to the kitchen and fixing them all drinks. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I don’t think a housewife is going to have a lot of combat utility against whatever Brenner or the Soviets are cooking up.” Whatever vulnerability had just come out of him was gone, and he was walled off again, abrasive and condescending.

“As if you have an excess of combat utility,” Karen said. “At least I can run a mile. It can be difficult in bedroom slippers.”

“You earned that one, don’t look at me,” Joyce said, accepting the vodka tonic. “Look, we know Jonathan and Nancy can take care of themselves, but we have to assume they’re in danger. A lot of danger. They were trying to find the new lab where Brenner might be operating.”

“Didn’t you say he was working with the Soviets?” Karen asked. “Wouldn’t we assume he’s in Russia?”

“Yes. But he’s also probably going to be trying to find El, because she’s got the power to open and close the gateway. The only other way to do it is with basically a small town’s worth of electricity, which the Soviets discovered will attract unwanted attention.”

“It would be easier to take El. So we can assume he has people here, or he’s here himself,” Joyce agreed. “We think there must be a way…” She struggled for the words.

“I was watching some stupid made for TV movie with Mike the other night,” Karen offered. “You know, you keep talking about this gate. This movie had people like…teleporting. Well, going through portals, or something. Into one door and out in a completely different place. What if because the Russians opened a gate and Hawkins opened a gate, you can go between them?”

Joyce frowned. “That’s…honestly. I hadn’t seriously considered it. The gate leads to this place…the kids call it the Upside Down. It’s like…another world, but it’s still _our_ world? Will could communicate with me through it, and Nancy was able to get in and out of it once before.”

“It wouldn’t be far out of the realm of possibility for those crazy Soviet assholes to use it as a tunnel to get into America covertly,” Murray agreed, looking interested in the possibility. “But they’d probably end up in Hawkins again, since that’s where the division between the two places is the weakest.”

“Well, if I see any Russians when I head home, I’ll call you,” Karen said, tossing back her drink and feeling drunk and distracted from the horror for a moment.

“It won’t be that simple,” Murray said, either not catching that she was kidding, or ignoring it entirely. “Look, we can go over the details in the morning. Why don’t we all agree to get some rest?”

“We can share the guest room,” Joyce told Karen, putting down her drink and showing her the way. The house was a cluttered mess of boxes and books. It didn’t look dirty, necessarily, just packed full of stuff and a little unloved. The guest room was fairly clean, though. It was just a bed and a bookshelf, lacking the chaotic vibe of the rest of the house.

“I can’t believe you thought I was sleeping with Murray,” Joyce said, when they laid down.

“I mean. You do seem to spend a lot of time together. Now that I know why it makes sense, but before, it just…”

“He’s not my type,” Joyce said.

“I don’t think he’s anyone’s type,” Karen giggled.

“He’s not _so_ bad. Just a little prickly at first.”

“Prickly? He’s a cactus.” This was better than the new reality stretching out before them. All the new information she had been inundated with. Gossiping with her friend was a familiar, warm feeling, against all the cold terror. Her head was spinning, and she really, really wished it would stop.

“He’s a big softie,” she said, and that was the last thing Karen heard before she drifted off.


	9. 8

She woke up to the smell of breakfast. Joyce was pulling on her socks at the edge of the bed and smiled when she saw Karen awake. “Morning. Ready to take down some possibly Soviet assholes?” she asked, not quite chipper, but not quite miserable.

“I was born ready,” she said with a yawn.

She splashed some water on her face in the bathroom but didn’t fuss over her worn-down experience. She had just experienced the most surreal 24 hours of her life; she wasn’t exactly concerned if Joyce and Murray-freaking-Bauman saw her with day old smudged mascara and flat hair.

“Good morning,” she said to Murray.

“You like eggs?”

“Scrambled?”

“Yep.”

“Love them.”

Breakfast was strong black coffee, scrambled eggs, and toast. It was a hangover breakfast if there ever was one, and she must have been starving because it was delicious.

Food was an adequate distraction from her racing thoughts. It had been a long time since anyone had cooked breakfast instead of her cooking it for everyone else. Probably a Mother’s Day back when her kids were too young to roll their eyes and scoff.

God, she wished she could see Nancy. To hug her and apologize for not knowing what she’d gone through these past few years. She had tried, she really had, but she hadn’t known the half of it.

“We should come up with a plan,” Joyce said.

“What can I tell Mike?” Karen asked immediately.

“The kids know that Nancy and Jonathan are looking for Dr. Brenner,” Murray said. “But they don’t know about Hopper. We didn’t…”

She knew, because it was how she felt right now. Telling El that her dad might be alive, when there was no guarantee? She couldn’t fathom crushing her spirit like that. The state of unsurety she was in over Nance and Jonathan was torment, and she couldn’t wish that on a little girl who’d lost so much. She nodded.

“They aren’t involved right now,” Joyce said. “I put my foot down after last summer. They play on their radios and ask for updates, but we had to stop them from poking around into things like they’ve been doing. The stakes are too high. So if they ask you to help, you have to tell them no.”

Karen smiled, imagining the kids trying to butt into this dangerous, dark, secret mission… It was just like them, wasn’t it? To be exactly where they shouldn’t be?

“Where are Will and El? I forgot to ask last night.”

“I left them at home. They can handle themselves. They called this morning to tell us they were okay…” Joyce said. “I still haven’t told them what happened. It would probably be better in person.” She sighed. “So you can tell Mike… and the boys and Max. But not all of it.”

She nodded. “And Ted?”

“Will he even notice she’s gone?” Joyce asked with a dismissive snort.

“Eventually.”

“The hospital said the DNA results would take a few weeks,” Joyce said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. “Maybe we could use that to our advantage. I’m not really ready for another fake funeral.”

Karen had apparently attended several of those herself and had to agree. “So…tell him they think something happened, but they aren’t sure yet?”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“If we’re done discussing the truly fascinating minutiae of how to lie about Nancy’s gruesome not-death, can we actually formulate a plan on how to find and rescue her and Jonathan?” Murray interrupted rudely from where he was refilling his coffee.

Joyce was gritting her teeth.

“I’ll go back to Hawkins and look to see if Nancy left us any clues,” Karen said, finishing her eggs and pushing her plate away. “Maybe Mike knows…”

“Steve and Robin would probably have some of the intel.”

“Steve…Harrington?” Karen asked.

“Yeah.”

“My son’s babysitter, Steve Harrington?”

“And Robin Buckley. Charming girl.”

If they had mentioned Steve in the story last night, she had forgotten, because she was trying to piece that whole thing together and failing.

“He and Dustin accidentally discovered the Russians under the mall. There’s more to it than that, but he’s a pretty excellent monster hunter slash child minder.”

Karen rubbed her temples. Was the whole freaking _town_ in on this except her? “Okay. So, I talk to Steve and Robin and try to retrace Nancy’s steps before she went missing. Then from there, we try and figure out what she found and where it is and find her? All the while pretending that she may or may not be dead?”

“Yup.”

She didn’t know if she could do this. Was she smart enough? She wasn’t as clever as Nancy, what if she missed the clues?

“Okay. So, I’m going to head back home. I’ll talk to the kids and report back. Is there a safer way to talk than the phone?”

“Nancy had already checked your house for bugs, it should be safe, but they do have a radio tower set-up on the edge of town, if you want to borrow their walkie-talkies,” Joyce said, putting a hand on Karen’s. “You don’t have to do it. Any of it. I’d understand if you…”

“I have to do it,” she said, standing up. She picked up her plate and empty glass of orange juice, taking them to the sink. It took her a second to realize she still wasn’t in her house; she didn’t technically have to do the dishes. Pretending to rinse the plate off gave her a moment to steady her breathing.

She had to do this, she had to find Nancy.

_Eagle’s Nest, this is Scoops Troop. Over._

Murray sighed, picking up the radio that she hadn’t even noticed behind him on a speaker. “Bald Eagle. Go ahead.”

Karen tried to hide her laughter in a cough. “Is that Dustin Henderson?”

Joyce smiled. “Yes.”

_Any word from Griswold Leader? Griswold 2?_

“None yet. Stand-by for further information. Radio silence.”

_Ten-Four Radio Silence._

“So. Scoops Troop? Eagle’s Nest?”

“Radio callsigns,” Joyce said helpfully. “I’m sure Dustin will find one for you. ‘Griswold Leader’ is Nancy. ‘Griswold 2’ is Jonathan.”

She remembered that Mike had referred to himself as Griswold 3, once, on the walkie-talkie with Dustin. “Your callsign is Bald Eagle?” she asked Murray innocently.

He glared at her.

“Children can be so cruel,” she said, trying to sound grave, but giving in to her need to laugh. He kind of deserved it.

Murray rolled his eyes and picked up the rest of the dirty plates, walking into the kitchen, brushing past her and starting to wash the breakfast dishes. “Call when you get home,” he said, looking over to Joyce.

“Will do.”

Karen and Joyce left after that.

“You look serious,” Joyce said as they drove down the road to where Karen’s car had been left.

“I’m just trying to remember the last time I saw a grown man wash his own dishes,” she said, knowing she’d never seen Ted or even her own father do something like that. Her mother had always said it was just the way things were.

“God, Ted really is the worst,” Joyce muttered. “Call when you get home.”

Karen reached over to hug Joyce before she got out of the car. “I will.”

It was a long, lonely drive home, and she drove it far too fast. Her heart hurt, her throat was tight, and she just wanted to open the door and see Nancy and know that this had all been a bad dream, and that none of it was real.

She picked up Mike and Holly from Claudia’s and they came home to an empty house, just like she’d left it after that terrible phone call.

She ordered a pizza, and after they ate, she put Holly to bed. Michael started to make his way upstairs, and she turned to him. “Mike, we need to talk.”

“Is this about me taking the car without asking last week?”

“You took the car?!”

“…No…?”

Karen hid her face in her hands. Even when the world was turned upside down, she was still the mother of an almost-16-year-old. “It’s about your sister,” she said.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. “Look, I know everything, and your sister is in danger. You need to tell me everything you know about what she was working on so me and Joyce can find her.”

Mike gawked at her. “Mom?”

“Michael. I’m serious. I know everything.”

He seemed to understand the gravity of that after a second, his shock shifting to fear. “Is Nancy --?”

“She’s alive as far as we know. They had a body, but it was like…like Will, a few years ago. Remember? So, we don’t have much time. We have to find her before…” Before what? She didn’t know. Before her actual body turned up somewhere…?

“Do we have to have another funeral?” he asked, looking miserable.

“We might.” A thought occurred to her that hadn’t yet, and she ran a hand through her hair. “It might be the best possible thing for us to do, actually.”

Mike was looking at her, dumbfounded and riveted.

If the stakes weren’t life and death, she’d almost be excited to have something she could share with her son.


	10. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all comments are the best and i love them. team let-karen-shoot-monsters is a good team to be on. also. ted wheeler getting read for filth is just...a dream of mine.

It was a one thing at a time process. While Michael and his friends gathered together to recall any details Nancy may have told them, Karen took on the harder part of this fiction: she had to tell Ted _something_. She had to tell the people of Hawkins something.

Getting out in front of Nancy’s absence, and if they were right and someone was spying on the town, letting them think she had bought their ruse, that was going to be her task.

“I’m sorry, Ted,” she said, reaching to put a hand over his. “The medical officer said the DNA testing could take up to three weeks for a positive confirmation. It’s hard to live with not knowing, but that’s all we can do.”

Ted had a clenched fist over his mouth, his eyebrows knitted together. “This is…”

She gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

“It’s all that Byers boy’s fault,” he said.

Karen removed her hand from his and frowned. “ _How_ is this Jonathan’s fault?”

“Well, if she weren’t running off with him every weekend, this wouldn’t have happened, right?” he said. “Why did you let her do that? It’s so inappropriate.”

“That doesn’t make it his _fault_ ,” she said. “I know you didn’t like Jonathan, but he made Nancy happy and he was a good, sweet kid. They’re eighteen, I wasn’t going to keep treating them like children and force them to sneak around. You’re making it sound like it’s my fault, too, and I know it’s just because you’re upset but that’s the last thing I need after everything.” Tears stung her eyes, and as much as she knew she was lying to Ted, the reality of it was still threatening her resolve.

He frowned again, reaching back for her hand. She let him take it in spite of her anger.

“Maybe I should stay here the next couple of days to help you out with the kids,” he said. “Let them know that we’re still a family.”

In her mind, she was telling him no, and that if they weren’t a family, he only had himself to blame. In her mind, she was stronger than she was in that moment. It would make it harder to talk to Michael about what was really going on, but they could work around it. Ted wasn’t exactly known for his keen observational skills.

“Sure. I was…thinking of having a little…gathering. Not like a funeral, but a gathering. To honor Nancy and Jonathan, to make it a little easier, no matter what the outcome is.” An excuse to have Joyce, Murray, and the kids in Hawkins without it looking like they were poking around to any prying eyes. An excuse to be nearer people who understood her.

“That might be a good idea,” he said, though he probably didn’t actually have an opinion on it as a concept. She was realizing that so much of the good she’d seen in Ted had worn away into something irritating…she didn’t know when it had happened.

-

The next day she took Michael to practice shooting. She had gone to a gun range before, for fun when she was younger and wanted to feel daring. Now it felt more…necessary. Mike told her that Steve was trying to teach all the boys how to fight, or at least swing the nail-laden bat he apparently used to foil monsters.

But one extra thing Mike could know in case they came for him, too, would be good.

“Nancy’s really good at this,” Mike said, as she reminded him of how to hold the gun, as outlined by several aggressive posters on the walls.

“I bet she is,” Karen said, not surprised.

“We don’t ever really do any fighting,” Mike said. “El is strong, she protects us. And Max can fight too. But we’re usually just the smart ones,” he continued. “The grownups do most of it. And Nancy. Her and Jonathan and Steve keep us safe. But I’m old enough, now. I can fight, too.”

“No, you can’t. There’s not going to be any fighting,” she said. “And as your mother, it’s my job to keep you safe. Just like it’s Nancy’s to look out for you when I’m not around, since she’s your big sister.”

“Well, by that logic, I need to protect Holly,” he said, clearly pleased by that brilliant deduction, as if it were the perfect loophole to get him in on things.

“Which is why you’re learning. But it’s not an excuse to go looking for a fight. It’s to protect yourself and your family if you _have_ to.”

What did she know about fighting? What was she even saying?

By the end of their afternoon, Mike still wasn’t the best shot, but his hands were shaking less, and he had landed some decent shots. Not a bullseye, but if he were shooting at a Russian he might have clipped their shoulder. It would slow someone down.

Karen felt strangely comfortable with the handgun.

“Wow, Mom, you’re a badass,” Mike said appreciatively as he fetched the paper target she’d made her bullseye on.

She ruffled his hair. “Watch your language. Let’s go get some lunch.”

-

That weekend, the Wheeler house was packed full of friends and family members, not exactly mourning, but standing together in hushed concern over a potluck assortment of food from the neighborhood. Karen often found hosting parties rewarding but today she was just drained.

Luckily for her, looking tired and desperate to find escape was par for the course, and everyone regarded her with sympathy instead of treating her as though she was being rude. She answered questions with a lot of ‘I don’t know’ and ‘I hope so’ instead of any real answers, almost as though she was afraid she’d slip up, tell the truth, and sound like a crazy person.

Though she could almost hear the gossip that would plague the town over the next few weeks.

_First the divorce and then this?_

_I bet Nancy ran off out of shame._

_What a month. Poor dear._

_I always knew that Byers boy was trouble._

Ted was sitting in his usual circle of fellow dads, drinking beer and pretending to be somber when their wives looked over. Things were a touch awkward, but everyone seemed outwardly respectful of his presence.

Well, except Murray Bauman, who wasn’t respectful of anyone except Joyce. He’d re-introduced himself to Ted with a predictable amount of disdain and occasionally paused whatever conversation he was having to glare at him.

“I don’t like that guy,” Ted said mildly, munching on a chicken wing, while Murray and Joyce talked to Steve Harrington in the corner. “And I think it’s weird he was hanging around our teenage daughter.”

“Oh, so suddenly you’re concerned father of the year, Ted?” she said, snappier than perhaps she’d intended. “He was mentoring her. He’s the reason she got into journalism.” Unlike some of the men in the room, at least he’d been a positive influence on their daughter, in some small way. At least he seemed to know her and care about her.

“She wasn’t _that_ serious about the journalism thing,” he said with undue confidence. “She only did that newspaper job for a few months!”

“…They _fired_ her for trying to write her own story, Ted,” she said. “She interviewed at a paper in Indianapolis for when she starts school in the fall like three weeks ago.” She had been so excited; she had most certainly mentioned it to her father. “Do you ever listen to your children?”

“Of course I do,” he complained through a bite of potato salad.

She shook her head and walked away to talk to Claudia and Tara Sinclair, who were infinitely more tolerable company.

As the party dwindled down, leftovers distributed into Tupperware and bowls washed and returned to owners, cheeks kissed and children hugged, Karen collapsed onto the couch next to Joyce, kicking off her heels.

“Did you taste that mac and cheese?”

“I think she put mayonnaise in it,” Karen agreed.

“That’s definitely an affront to God.”

“I am so freaking exhausted.”

Joyce laid her head on Karen’s shoulder and they both closed their eyes, pretending that they would be allowed to sleep now that the party was over. They should be so lucky.

Ted came out of the guest bathroom and looked a little confused by Joyce’s presence on the couch and Murray loading the dishwasher. “I thought the party was over,” he said.

“And yet you’re still here,” was the response from Murray, before Karen could muster an explanation.

“ _I_ live here, sir,” Ted said.

“No, you don’t,” Karen pointed out. “You moved out. You just stayed a few nights to help out.”

“Well, I thought that all things considered…maybe we could put that behind us,” he said, obviously very uncomfortable to have to say this in front of an audience. Ted had never liked expressing himself to other people, to his detriment.

She was glad he was uncomfortable.

“You thought I’d forgive you cheating on and then leaving me because our child is missing?” she asked, incredulous.

The look on Ted’s face said that it was exactly what he’d thought.

“Ted, you need to go back to your apartment. I appreciate you staying to help with the kids, and you’re always welcome here as their father, but I’m not going back to the way things were,” she said, sitting up and trying to sound diplomatic.

“I think we should talk about this one-on-one,” he said, faltering.

“I invited Murray and Joyce to stay because they have a long drive back to Illinois, and I’m done talking about it,” she said. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

“I’d like for you to at least consider it,” he said.

“Ted, I’m sure you have a lot of regrets about what you did, but you should listen to the lady and get lost,” Murray said.

Ted tried to posture a little, which was just sad. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

That, apparently, was the secret phrase that fully released all the barely restrained contempt Murray kept deep inside. Ted had made a grave mistake and wouldn’t recognize it until it was too late. Karen saw it coming just from the flash of Bauman’s glasses.

“Oh, I don’t?” he asked, cocking his head to one side and giving Ted a long, scornful look. Karen almost spoke up in Ted’s defense, but she doubted Murray would listen to her, anyway. “I know everything I need to know about you from one look, Ted Wheeler. You treated your life like a checklist of accomplishments and one day you woke up with a beautiful wife and a nice house and three good, smart children and you were dissatisfied. Why? You weren’t sure. You didn’t think too hard about it, you just decided maybe you should have sex with your secretary and see if that helped. Well, it did for a minute, but then the shame got to you.”

Ted was stunned speechless, and Joyce was watching this rant like it was a movie and she’d run out of popcorn.

“Because you couldn’t possibly have a marriage built upon communication and healthy resolution of issues, you’d never bothered to tell your loving wife that you were unsatisfied, and instead of admitting your indiscretion and allowing her the chance to dump your ass, you got out ahead of it and left _her_ instead. That way, maybe it would look like she’d done something wrong instead of you, right?”

He wasn’t actually asking. He might not have taken a breath in the painfully long minute he’d been talking. Karen kind of wanted to melt into the couch, but another part of her wanted to hug Murray, which was the worst feeling in the world.

“But now…well, the secretary didn’t actually want to get tied down to some old guy who left his wife, she was just having some fun, and you’re all alone, and you regret it. Because you transitioned from living with your mom to living with your wife and now you have no idea how to function in life. But she’s moving on and that means you have to live with your choices, and that’s unfortunate, but it’s life. So why don’t you just go on home and lick your wounds and accept your failure?”

Karen passingly thought it might have been _too_ mean, but she just watched as Ted gaped and Joyce failed to hide her laughter. “I’m sorry about him, Ted, he’s not used to interacting with real people, but you should still head home for the night. I’ll call you soon.”

Ted gave up and left.

“Aw, Murray, you think I’m beautiful?” she joked, trying to break the tense silence in the house once Ted was gone.

“Don’t get any funny ideas,” he said. “I just hate guys like that.”

Joyce rolled her eyes.

“Harrington dropped this off during the gathering,” he said, pulling a small book out of his pocket. “He said Nancy had a lead at the motel in town.”

Karen flipped the notebook open and found pictures of another, different notebook. It looked like the sign-in sheet of a hotel, with a list of handwritten names, followed by phone numbers and stray comments about random nonsense.

“What am I looking for?” she asked.

“Jack Franklin.”

She found Jack Franklin quickly.

And then again.

And again.

And again.

“Jack Franklin stayed at our motel four times in the past two months?” She paused and looked again. “No, wait. All the handwriting is different. Four different Jack Franklins?”

“All with the same phone number,” Murray agreed. “Dustin said he called it and it’s just a tone. Dead air.”

Nancy’s handwriting had detailed what they knew about the Four _Jack Franklins; phone number doesn’t (?) work. Four different guys. All walked to motel. Got picked up in a white van, no logo, Indiana plates (as far as Twila remembers). Twila said ‘not loquacious types’._

“Four guys with a fake name and a fake phone number walking into town and disappearing in a creepy white van,” Karen said. “That does feel like a clue.”

“If we can trace the phone number, it might be a lead,” Joyce agreed, flipping through the notes.

“It’s an Indiana Area Code, so we could probably call Indiana Bell and get some kind of information,” she said.

“I don’t think anyone at the phone company would just tell us who has that phone number,” Murray scoffed.

“Are you just mad you didn’t come up with that idea first?” she asked, smiling. “It’s at least worth a shot.”

He wouldn’t ever begrudge that, because admitting that Karen had good ideas would just be too much, right?

“I didn’t find anything in Nancy’s room, but I have no idea where she’d hide sensitive information that could possibly destabilize the United States government,” she added in a droll voice. “But this might be the lead she was working on the bring to you.”

“When she was either killed or abducted by our enemies, yes,” he said in a sour tone, as if someone had accused him of someone. “Don’t need the reminder.”

“I didn’t blame you.”

Joyce got up and quietly procured a bottle of gin that Claudia had left from the party, pouring drinks. She put a hand on Murray’s shoulder and gave him a significant, if unreadable, look when she handed him one.

“We’ll follow the Jack Franklin lead as far as it’ll take us,” he said, by way of backing off. “But someone will need to keep an eye on the motel to see if any more of them pop up.”

“I know where Twila gets her hair done, maybe I could talk to her.”

“Are you a good liar?” he asked her, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Karen took a sip of her drink. “Well, I mean, that shade of blue really goes well with your complexion,” she said, maintaining a straight face the whole time. He looked offended. “I’m a suburban housewife, Murray, all I do is lie.”

“Fair enough.”


	11. 10

She had found additional notes in Nancy’s little notebook, and some of them were so leading that Karen felt like maybe she’d anticipated being taken. These felt like things she was telling them directly, trying to guide them towards what she’d found.

 _‘Told Twila my car had been broken into and was trying to find suspicious folks coming into town,’_ a note read.

It was a good story.

She was on hold with the phone company.

She had _been_ on hold with the phone company.

She did understand it was Sunday and that meant they were probably understaffed, but this was getting absurd.

Joyce was continuing to thumb around for more clues. Robin and Steve had dropped off Jonathan’s most recent batch of photographs, though none of them were clues, she felt her heart drop when she saw a picture of a smiling Nancy. She was happy to have it, even as she fought tears.

“I have no idea how you enjoy this investigating stuff, it’s so dull,” she said away from the mouthpiece.

“Some of us just enjoy knowing things, Karen.”

She glared at him. Joyce rolled her eyes.

“I think everyone does, Murray. I don’t think that’s a quality unique to _you_.”

“Apparently patience is, though!”

She mouthed ‘bite me’ as an operator intoned “thank you for your patience, how may I help you today?”

“Uhm, hi,” she said. “I’m trying to find the owner of a specific phone number. Is that something you could help me with?”

“I can’t provide phone lookups, I suggest you try the yellow pages, ma’am,” they droned.

“This is police business, though,” she lied, surprising herself. “The owner of the phone number is a person of interest in a few car-jackings and we’d really appreciate not having to get a warrant for this information.” She put on her sternest voice, but to her own ear she just sounded like a nagging mother playing like a cop she’d seen on TV.

Murray was hiding behind his hands, and Joyce was giving her a hopeful thumbs up.

“Oh, in that case…uhm. Give me the number and I’ll see what I can do.”

Karen read off the number and was greeted by the hold music, again. As much as easy listening from the 70s was great, she was really wishing that she could get off the freaking phone.

“You told them you were a fucking cop?!”

“It worked, didn’t it?!”

“I will strangle you both!” Joyce nearly yelled, breaking Karen out of her frustrated hate-sink.

“According to our records, the number belongs to a storage facility in Indianapolis,” the operator said. “I think whoever used that number must have been using a fake,” they added apologetically.

“That’s disappointing, but we do appreciate your cooperation,” Karen said. “What was the name of that facility, just out of interest?”

“Store-4-the number, not the word-U, the letter, not the word.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, hanging up as she wrote down the notes. “Phone book?” she asked, turning to Joyce, who was flipping through it frantically.

“Store 4 U, Indianapolis,” she muttered as she searched. “Found it. Numbers don’t match.” She jotted down the listed number and the address, dog-earing the page in the phone book and setting it aside.

“So we’ve got a storage facility with a secret second phone number that calls nothing,” Murray said. “Promising.”

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not anymore.”

“I’m not. But I know that she had to have found more than this. It was something important, this doesn’t feel that important. It feels like a piece of a puzzle.”

“And we have none of the edge pieces,” Karen concluded.

“We need to go get the kids and head back to Illinois,” Joyce said ruefully. “Call if you hear anything, and we’ll do the same.”

Karen got up to walk them to the door, clutching Nancy’s notebook. “Maybe you should take this, I’m scared I’ll miss a clue, maybe you’d have more luck,” she said, holding it out to them.

“Spare us the self-deprecating. You’re smart enough to find anything she left, and it’ll be safer with you,” Murray scoffed, his snarky tone betrayed by the compliment he just paid her. “Be careful,” he added in a mutter, fleeing to the car.

Joyce hugged her for a long moment. “You’ve gotten us this far, right? Don’t be hard on yourself.”

Karen smiled into Joyce’s hair. “Yeah, I…sorry. I just feel so out of my depth right now.”

“Don’t let my unshakeable confidence fool you, Karen, I’ve been out of my depth for three years,” she said with a crooked grin. “Call me if you need anything, or even just to talk. I’ll be home in a few hours.” With that, she walked down to the curb where Murray was waiting in the van.

Karen watched them leave. When she went back inside, she started cleaning up the remnants of breakfast and tried to come up with some kind of plan. Some idea that would push them forward. She still needed to find time to talk to Twila from the motel. She wasn’t optimistic about it, but it was preferable to sitting around, thinking about what could happen.

The kids were still over at Steve’s apartment, or at least that’s where they told her they’d be. One could never be sure, with that group.

Sunday wasn’t her usual day to go to the salon, but it was Twila’s, and she thought maybe Francesca could squeeze her in for a trim, just enough time in the chair to get what she needed.

“Oh, please tell me you have an opening,” she said, effusive and hopeful, trying to peer over the front desk at the appointment book.

“I actually had a couple of cancellations today, so we definitely have time. What are you thinking?”

“Trim the ends, and maybe a deep conditioning treatment?” she asked.

Francesca, her red-haired stylist, nodded. “Sure you don’t need something a little more extreme?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, after a breakup, I always end up chopping all of my hair off,” Fran joked, buttoning the drape over Karen and moving the chair into a better position.

Karen faked a laugh. “Oh, well. I think I’ll skip that part of the breakup and stick with the ice cream binges,” she said. She hadn’t felt like she needed to change anything about herself just because Ted was an idiot, but maybe she should?

No. She was perfectly happy with herself.

“Strong woman,” Twila said from the chair next to her, curlers being set up. “When my third husband left me, I nearly shaved my head. Just to spite him.”

Twila kept her shoulder length gray hair tightly curled. Michael, as a small child, had once described it as ‘hard’, and that’s always what Karen had thought of. Hard hair, a severe jawline, and half-circle reading glasses. Twila had looked like that for as long as Karen had been in Hawkins.

“Well it’s good you didn’t, I’m not sure you’ve got the face-shape for that,” Twila’s stylist said with a smile.

Twila snorted.

“So, Twi, I heard that you’ve had some weird guests at the motel lately,” Karen said in her best conspiratory voice. Like this was neighborhood gossip.

“Oh, yeah. Bunch of guys signing the same name and showing up like they popped out of a hole in the ground. Don’t say a word, don’t eat breakfast, just show up and then leave. Same room too! Though in that respect, I can’t fault them, they all just ask for a room with a view, and there’s only one of them.”

“Any of them leave anything odd behind?” she asked.

“Oh, you sound like that daughter of yours. She came around asking about them a few weeks ago. I’m real sorry for what happened, by the way. I hope she turns up.” Twila adjusted her glasses, still reading her magazine. “I’m sure she told you about the break-in. I even let her look around the room they stayed in, which isn’t strictly allowed, but she said she didn’t find anything. Hope whoever broke into her car is long gone, I’ve had a bellyful of crime and nonsense the past few years.”

Karen nodded. It was easy to get Twila talking, and she was happy for it. She expected that since her fourth husband had been going steadily deaf, she needed an outlet.

Karen got her conditioner on and sat in a chair, thumbing through a two-month old copy of People.

Twila got sat in a chair just a few feet away, the dryer over her curls. “I bet they’re Canadians.”

“What?”

“I bet they’re walking across the border, hitchhiking to Hawkins and getting picked up to find work in the city.”

“Why wouldn’t they just stay in Canada?” Karen asked.

“Well, America’s the greatest country in the world. Of course they want to live here,” she said sternly. It was probably easier to think that when you didn’t know that the government had been doing weird mad science experience, kidnapping babies and killing people, but Karen wasn’t going to begrudge her those opinions. She doubted Canada was without its dark secrets.


	12. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like it should go without saying but if you have negative feelings about karen dont read or comment on this fic? like... brah comments light up my day when i get them so getting a hostile one kinda sucks!! it's just!! a fanfiction!! 
> 
> all of you are lovely and amazing though i love you all tho!

Monday was grocery day.

Mike being old enough to be trusted to watch Holly had turned grocery day into a rare oasis of Karen-Time this summer. She took her time; she meandered through aisles and didn’t have to be conscious of which kid would be hungry or in need of a nap for an extra two hours a week.

As she loaded her bags into the wagon, something caught her eye.

A guy walking down the sidewalk.

Now, it wasn’t uncommon to see people walking around town on a nice day. It was a little on the hot side for a man in dark pants and a flannel shirt, though, and he didn’t look like he was from around there.

Plus, he was walking in the direction of the motel.

She let him get to the end of the block and turn before she started following him. She parked at the drug store and under the pretense of fixing her lipstick, watched him complete the walk to Hawkins Motel. She walked around the drug store for a few minutes, picking up some arbitrary items and then returning to the car, in time to see the potential Jack Franklin walking out of the office with a room key in hand.

Waiting until he was out of sight, she pulled up to the motel and popped inside.

“Karen! It’s funny you’re here,” Twila said. “I got another Jack Franklin in! I think it’s gotta be a prank at this point,” she said, chuckling.

“Oh really?” she said, feigning surprise. “Funny thing! I actually needed a room tonight. We’re fumigating the house…found termites. Any vacancies?”

If Twila found this suspicious, she didn’t comment on it. “I’ve got a couple of rooms. Let me grab you a key.”

“Thanks, Twi.”

She paid for the room and took the key. “I’m gonna run a couple more errands and then I’ll be back,” she said. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Karen.”

Her errand was a stop at Steve Harrington’s apartment. She banged on the door and was greeted by Robin, looking sleepy despite it being well past noon.

“Mrs. W, what’s up?” she asked, trying to smooth down her hair.

“I have a lead, I need you guys to help me stake out the motel,” she said, slipping inside. It was a tiny little shoebox apartment over a general store, none of the furniture matched but it looked well-taken care of.

“Oh, really? What’s up?”

“Is Steve here?”

“He’s at work, he’ll be back around four,” she said, looking at the cracked clock on the wall. “We could wait until he gets here, if you don’t want to tell the story twice.”

“That would be great, honestly. Maybe we can get the kids, too? Just to make it quick. I know they’ll find out.”

Robin nodded, speed walking over to a radio setup in the corner, pulling out the mouthpiece. “This is Scoops Base. Over.”

“Go ahead, Scoops Base, this is Griswold 4,” she heard Lucas respond.

“Family meeting at Scoops Base at 4 PM CST. Requested by…” Robin looked over at Karen, who had not yet gotten a callsign, and was kind of dreading it. “Free Wheeler. Got a lead on Operation Griswold Rescue.”

“Affirmative. See you at four.”

“Free Wheeler?” Karen asked, smiling.

“I thought it was appropriate,” Robin said. “You’ve shaken the shackles of traditional suburban existence and now you’re living your best life.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she said. “But that does make it sound a lot better.”

Robin winked at her.

“I’m going to go pick up Mike and Holly and I’ll meet you kids back here at four,” she said. “Thanks, Robin.”

“You’re welcome, Free Wheeler,” she said with a chuckle.

Mike ran outside to help with the groceries. “What did you find, Mom?” he demanded.

“We’ll talk about it at Steve’s place,” she said. “Come on, let’s get the groceries put away and drop Holly off at her sleepover.” It didn’t take them long to get things put away, and she spent some time playing with Holly and helping her pack her bag for a night with her pre-school friend Jenny.

She felt like the summer had gone by in the blur, and as much as she’d been trying to maintain normalcy and do all of her normal mommy-daughter time with Holly; their swim classes and painting and reading together, but she had felt so distracted.

Holly hadn’t noticed, or at least been kind enough not to complain. She had always taken a little more after Ted and wasn’t ever too demanding.

She dropped her off, making conversation with Jenny’s mother Yvette for a few minutes while Michael angrily, impatiently groaned in the car. She watched him from the corner of her eye, trying not to prolong the conversation just to spite him for being silly.

“Finally!” he whined.

“Michael, you need to be more patient.”

“But you said you had a lead about Nancy! I wanna find out what happened!”

Karen sighed. “I know. But we should wait to see everyone so we can come up with a plan. We can’t be reckless, or someone could get hurt.” She felt too responsible for everyone’s safety. The kids in Hawkins only had her to look out for them right now, with Nancy and Jonathan gone. Well, Steve and Robin were still there, but they were barely adults themselves.

She didn’t want anything to happen to Mike or Lucas or any of the kids, even if she needed their help.

When they finally all convened at Scoops Base, she was a little shocked to see Lucas’s sister Erica there.

“Erica, what are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m a vital member of the Scoops Troop,” she said with a big smile.

Karen’s life really couldn’t get weirder. She relayed what she’d found – another Jack Franklin at the motel. She’d be staying in the motel to keep an eye on him, and maybe the teens could stake out the outside of the motel to see if he went anywhere?

“We should search his room if he leaves it,” Dustin suggested.

“Nancy searched the room after another one of them left and didn’t find anything,” Steve pointed out.

“But they had already checked out. If we searched while they’re checked in, maybe we’d find something different,” Erica agreed. “They’re taking all the good stuff with them when they leave, obviously.”

Steve relented.

“Me and Erica and Robin can break into the room if we can get him out of it,” Dustin said. “And you guys can follow him if he leaves,” he added to Lucas, Mike, Max, Karen and Steve.

They nodded along.

“Get the gear and pack the car,” Steve told Lucas and Mike. “Make sure your walkies have fresh batteries,” he added in a scolding tone, as he got up and opened a lower cabinet in the kitchen, pulling out a nail-riddled bat. “Assume our target is dangerous.”

Karen hadn’t thought to crack open Ted’s rarely used gun safe and bring something with her, but she hoped this was a simple recon mission and nothing happened.

Treating the kids to dinner, she tried to keep calm as she watched them chow down on pizza and laugh and act as though this wasn’t potentially dangerous. It might as well have been a trip to the mall or the arcade. She tried to get into that mindset, too.

This could be the best way to find Nancy.

They ate in the motel room, and once night fell, the kids all took refuge in Karen’s car, parked just across from the room. It really was the only room with a view – it looked out over the woods and farmlands. The rest of the motel only overlooked a parking lot. But they found the exact spot to see inside the room. Michael and Karen stayed in the motel room, waiting by the radio for the signal.

“I really don’t know what to expect,” she said haltingly, trying not to sound afraid.

“Either some monsters, Russians, or slime,” Mike said.

“I feel so terrible that you’ve been going through all of this on your own,” she said. “I wish I had known sooner.”

“It’s okay, Mom. We had to keep you guys safe. You wouldn’t have believed us anyway. I’m glad you know now, but…I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” he said sincerely. “If El still had her powers, she could find Nancy like that,” he added, snapping his fingers. “But after last year, she can’t use them. I told Max she was pushing too hard, but…”

“El did what she had to do to protect her family. And that’s what we’re going to do, right?”

Mike smiled. “Yeah.”

She hugged him to her tightly, thinking of all the horrible things that had happened, and would probably keep happening, if they didn’t stop it now.

“Free Wheeler, Griswold 3,” the radio crackled. “The target is on the move.”

“Wait until he’s out of sight, before moving into position,” Mike replied.

“Ten-Four.”

They waited a few minutes before a rapid knock on the motel room door, their signal to switch positions.

“Seatbelts,” she told them sternly.

“He went that way,” Max said, pointing out towards the woods as she obediently buckled her belt. She then scrambled to tie her hair back up. “I think there’s a service road that goes in the same direction over there.”

Karen didn’t turn on her headlights, finding the road following the direction of their Jack Franklin. She caught a glimpse of a white t-shirt a few times through the trees, far enough ahead of them that she was sure he couldn’t really hear them.

The road ended, though.

“We’ll have to follow him on foot,” Max declared.

“I don’t know…” Karen said, even as she took her seatbelt off and popped the trunk so Steve could get his bat. “I heard that farmer say he’s been having a coyote problem the past few weeks,” she said. The last thing she needed was Steve getting eaten by a coyote or something equally ridiculous to cap off her nightmarish summer.

“I think we can handle a coyote, Mrs. W,” Steve said with a laugh. “If you need to stay in the car, I can go ahead on my own.”

“Absolutely not,” she said sternly, getting out of the car. “Let’s go. Stay close to me and Steve,” she said to the kids.

“I’m going to stay in the car with the radio. So he doesn’t hear our signals,” Mike said. “That way if we need to make a quick escape…”

“You’re not that good of a driver,” Karen said with a laugh. “But good plan.” At least Mike would be safer.

The radio crackled faintly.

“Cages,” Dustin’s voice rang. “Big cages.”

“Cages?” she asked quietly, furrowing her eyebrows.

Leaves crackled. The wind blew gently as they walked, trying to stay quiet on the rocky ground. It seemed to stretch on forever, the field they were walking through for a long few minutes of quiet.

“I can see a flashlight ahead,” Steve said. “I guess that’s him. Maybe he’s looking for something? The tunnels?”

The noises of the night seemed to still, all of a sudden. It was eerie calm for a long moment, and they froze in their tracks. A shriek echoed in the distance, solitary and odd.

“Coyote?” she ventured.

The shriek rang out again.

“ _Not_ a coyote,” Steve said.

The rushing of feet through the trees answered the strangled animal cry, and the soft, distant pop of a gun.

Another shriek.

“ _Demodogs_ ,” Max said.

“What are demodogs?” Karen demanded.

“Run!” Lucas shouted, grabbing his girlfriend’s hand and pulling her backwards. “We aren’t equipped for demodogs!”

Steve kept to the back of the pack, pushing all of them forward, back to the car. A walk that had taken them ten minutes or less seemed to stretch on forever as they ran back to the car. She pushed Mike out of the driver’s seat and buckled up, slamming into reverse as a dark shape barreled out of the trees and onto the hood of the car.

It was shaped vaguely like a dog, so she guessed that’s how it got the name, but the face was entirely wrong. It looked more like some sort of flower, with petals that opened and closed. The headlights glared onto it, reflecting onto rows of teeth.

“Holy sh –” she said under her breath, hitting the gas and sending the car rocketing back and the demodog rocketing forward, away from them. She considered running it over, but instead wheeled around. It smacked the side of the car and in the rearview she saw it stumble away, dazed.

“Get out of there, we’re coming back!” Mike yelled into the radio.

They parked at the hotel and took a long few seconds to collect themselves, catching their breath before returning to Karen’s room, where Robin, Dustin, and Erica were all already waiting.

“What did you find?” Dustin asked.

“Demodogs. You?” Max said, finding herself a cold slice of pizza. How she could eat after a shock like that was beyond Karen.

“Conveniently, demodog sized cages,” Dustin said with a raised eyebrow.

“So there are demodogs getting into the woods around Hawkins and Jack Franklin is rounding them up and taking them away in an unmarked white van,” Mike deduced. “So we just follow the van tomorrow when it comes to pick him up and we find out where they’re taking them, and maybe we find Nancy!”

“ _We’_ are doing nothing,” Karen said sharply. “I appreciate your help tonight kids, but I’ll take this information to Joyce and Murray and we’ll take it from here,” she said.

“What good will that do? We’re all already here! We could follow them!”

“Michael, I don’t want to hear it. You all need to be responsible and stay safe. Steve, Robin, you will look out for them, right?” she asked.

“Of course. We can keep an eye on them and the motel, and you can follow the van lead,” Robin agreed, giving her a thumbs up. “Oh, this was the name written on the cages, by the way,” she said, passing a scrap piece of paper. “They all had a brand name, ‘RealTek’.”

Slipping the scrap paper into Nancy’s notebook, she started writing down the events of the night.

“We have to find a way to at least get the license plate number of the van,” she said. “You kids could at least help me with that,” she offered, knowing that giving them just a little bit to do meant they were less likely to openly rebel.


	13. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god this fic is somehow so l o n g

That morning, after some bad complimentary coffee and an urgent phone call to Joyce, Karen set their plan into motion. Check-out was 10 AM. They had risen early to make sure they caught Mr. Jack Franklin. They found ways to inconspicuously loiter, until a white van backed up to the spot immediately in front of Jack Franklin’s room.

With the back doors open and two men moving around the van, helping haul off heavy, covered boxes, she couldn’t get a good vantage on the license plate.

They finally loaded it up and began pulling away from the motel.

A yelp echoed, and a faint thud, and the screech of brakes.

The doors to the van swung open and a guy got out, looking shocked at the ground.

Mike gave a convincingly pained wail. Her cue.

Karen ran down the stairs of the motel and around the van. “Oh gosh, my baby!” she yelled, seeing the van driver standing over a prone and pained looking Mike. “What happened, sweetheart?”

“They hit me!” he said, pained.

“He came out of nowhere, ma’am!”

“Oh, goodness,” she said, wringing her hands, trying to really enhance the image of hysteria. “Should we call the police? An ambulance?”

Mike staggeringly got to his feet. “No, Mom, I think I’m okay,” he said, faking a brave face.

Karen looked over his shoulder as she hugged him, at the front window of the van. A STORE-4-U decal was peeling off the corner of the windshield. “Okay, baby. I told you not to play in parking lots! I’m so sorry about this, sir, we didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Miss…” he said.

She pretended not to hear him, pulling Mike along before they got too close a look at either of them. Around the corner, Robin gave her a thumbs up.

“License plate. It’s an Illinois plate,” she said, handing her the notebook as they piled back into Karen’s car, watching the van leave hurriedly. “Twi must not have really looked when she said she thought it was an Indiana plate. Or there have been multiple vans.”

Maybe STORE-4-U had a second location?

“That was cool! We should do that more often!” Mike said.

“Michael, we do not grift people unless it’s absolutely necessary,” she said sternly. “Will you stay home and watch Holly tonight?”

“Ugh, Mom…”

“The guys can come over, too, as long as you don’t talk about monsters or Nancy with Holly.”

“Can’t Dad do it?”

“He’ll think it’s weird I’m leaving town so frequently if I dump Holly off on him again so soon,” she said. And frankly, Michael was more responsible.

“He just thinks you’re going on dates,” Mike said casually.

Karen laughed, a tiny bit hysterical. She’d have to blame the adrenaline from their little mini-heist. “What, seriously?”

“Yeah, he called and asked me if you were seeing any men,” he said, sighing.

“And you said _no_ , right?”

“Obviously! He was asking about Murray Bauman, which is just like… _nasty_. I told him no, you were just hanging out with Murray because of Joyce,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Oh my god,” she said, trying to work out what universe she was living in. She’d hit some kind of freaky dog monster with her car and her no-good estranged husband was accusing her of sleeping with her daughter’s weird mentor.

What a month.

Dropping everyone off at their respective home bases, she packed an overnight bag and got ready to go. She made dinner and left instructions for how to cook oatmeal for breakfast the next day, and made Michael promise to stay there with Holly, no matter what.

She waited until Holly dozed off, nestled beside her big brother while they watched a movie, before she left.

As she walked outside, she saw Fred Sinclair eyeing the fresh dents in her car.

“Craziest thing,” she said. “I think it might have been a deer. Ran off before I could really see,” she said with a laugh.

“Right,” he said, setting out his trash cans and walking back inside without another word.

It was late by the time she reached Sesser.

“It’s Karen Wheeler,” she said to the camera at the corner of the door, as Joyce had warned her to do.

Murray opened the door, as usual not exactly dressed for company. “Joyce is coming up in the morning, do you need anything?”

“A drink before bed?”

He nodded, locking the door behind her and padding off to his freezer. The vodka tonic was strong, but honestly, she needed it. The past few days had done a number on her nerves.

“The short version?” he asked, clinking his glass to hers and throwing it back without a hesitation.

“Fake name at the motel is going out into the woods and trapping these demodog things and taking them away in a van that belongs to the storage facility,” she said. “We think. Got a license plate, a company name on a cage, and a connection to the phone number.”

Murray nodded. “Good.” He finished his drink and got up, walking in the direction of the stairs. “I’m going to sleep.”

His exit was so abrupt that she didn’t have time to say goodnight or react, and she was left alone in the dark, trying not to think of her daughter in a cage like the one they had found in the motel, or surrounded by weird creatures with too many teeth.

Too many bad possibilities.

She refilled her drink before bed, and the second one went down smoother.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t really sleep. She went in and out, fitful and restless alone in a dark guest room. She wished Joyce was there to talk to her until they dozed off. Just the presence of another person would have been…nice.

She didn’t think of herself as lonely, with Ted gone. But truly, she rarely thought of herself at all.

Maybe she _was_ lonely. Maybe she’d been lonely for longer than she’d realized.

She thought she must have drifted off, eventually, because she thought she could hear…

That sounded like…

… _Nancy_?

Karen shot awake, her heart pounding wildly. Just a dream? Had she even slept? She walked out of the room. “Nance?” she sleepily whispered into the empty house.

All she saw was Murray, with his back to her.

Nancy’s voice came out of his answering machine after the audible click of a button.

_We’re on our way. I think I found it._

A muffled noise overtook the recording.

_Shit. They’re following us. We’ll shake them before we head over. See you soon._

She heard the tape rewind.

_…over. See you soon._

That was the last time someone had heard from Nancy. Would this be the last time she heard her voice?

He played it again.

_See you soon._

“I’m sorry,” she said reflexively when Murray finally realized she was there. She felt as though she had been eavesdropping, even though it was her daughter’s voice. It still felt like maybe this had been a private moment of Murray’s. A peak over the walls. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” he said, sitting down on the couch.

The realization had hit her hard. “She called you the night it happened.” The person she’d thought to call when things were dire. She didn’t call her brother. She didn’t call Joyce. She called this strange, rude man.

“And I didn’t answer. Like an idiot.” It was different than usual. She was so used to feeling like Murray used his words to wound. He was always so…dismissive. So unkind. This was…

Was this guilt?

“I don’t think you answering would have changed anything,” she said, and she sat down next to him, for some reason. Her feet seemed to have her own ideas, even though her brain told her that going back to bed would be the least painful option for both of them right now.

“Maybe I could have helped. I don’t know. They were twenty minutes away, I could have gone and _gotten_ them. But I didn’t answer the fucking phone.” His head was back, he was staring at the ceiling with a mournful look.

“I thought about telling her to leave in the morning. It was already so late when Jonathan got there…but I didn’t.”

“She wouldn’t have listened. She’d have gone anyway.”

She smiled. “I know. She was always a willful kid. Even as a baby. She was determined to have everything her way. I always tried to get her to behave a certain way or look a certain way and never understood why she resented me. And now, I feel like I know her better than ever and I don’t even know if she’s alive. It’s…”

“I can only imagine.”

Karen brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them to her. “We’ll find them, right?”

“…I don’t know,” he said candidly. “We’ve been looking for Jim for nearly a year. Whatever lead Nancy had found was the _only_ lead we had in all that time. What if it takes us another year? It could be too late, by then.”

Closing her eyes, she blocked out the thought. It wouldn’t take a year. It wouldn’t. It felt like they were so close. “No, I don’t think it’ll take that long.”

He took off his glasses and pressed his palms to his eyes, groaning. “This is fucking terrible.”

“Can I distract you with something funny?” she asked.

“You sure can try.”

“Ted asked Mike if I was sleeping with you.”

Murray laughed, sharp and a little unpleasant, like most everything he did. “Good Lord, how did you end up with that moron?” She wasn’t sure if it was meant to be complimentary to her or insulting to them both. With Murray, it was always hard to tell.

She huffed. “He’s not a moron, he’s just…emotionally unintelligent. You should relate.”

“Do not compare me to _Ted Wheeler,_ woman,” he grumped, turning to look at her. “I’m this way by choice, not because I was coddled by everyone in my life for forty-some years and never had to learn how to relate to people.”

“Why would anyone to choose to be like…this?” she asked, gesturing vaguely at him. She had some ideas, but that was for a different argument.

He didn’t deign to answer her.

“That sounded meaner than I meant it.”

He sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. It was the right amount of mean for the guy who probably killed your daughter.”

Karen bit her lip. “I don’t blame you, no matter what happens.”

“You should. So should Joyce. What happened to Jim was my fault, too. I was the one with the brilliant fucking plan that went completely sideways.”

She scooted in a little. “I don’t know _exactly_ what happened last year, really, but that doesn’t sound right. I think Jim Hopper knew all the risks and made a choice. For his friends and his daughter. Just like Nancy and Jonathan did. Blaming yourself isn’t gonna get them back, so maybe… stop doing it?”

“Inspiring,” he said dryly. “You should go into speech-writing. Your way with words is compelling.”

“And here I was, thinking we were starting to get along,” she sniped back.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s possible for us to get along,” he replied. “I absolutely can’t stand you.” He leaned forward to fill the glass on the table, handing it to her and taking his drink straight out of the bottle.

“Trust me, the feeling is _mutual_ ,” she said, taking the shot and holding the glass out for a refill.

Neither of them sounded all that convincing, but she blamed that on the vodka.


	14. 13

“Oi, lovebirds, wake up,” someone said, flashing the lights.

Karen’s head hurt. She was uncomfortably folded up on the couch, her arm around Murray’s shoulder, his face resting on her chest. She shoved him up and he groaned awake.

“It’s not like that,” she said, her face red.

“Spare me,” Joyce scoffed. “I brought crappy fast food biscuits and coffee, let’s get started.”

They spread out the breakfast and Karen fished Nancy’s notebook out of her purse, relaying the story of the van, the monsters, and the information they’d discovered.

“RealTek,” Murray muttered under his breath. He repeated it a few times while Karen and Joyce tried to parse the details.

“So we break into these storage facilities and see what we find?” Karen said. She had a phone book balanced on her lap. “The Illinois location is in Oak Park.”

“If we break into the one in Indianapolis, they’ll know to expect us in Illinois if we don’t find what we’re looking for. We’d have to do them both simultaneously,” Joyce said, rubbing her temples. “That’d be next to impossible, even if it wasn’t just the three of us.”

Murray’s mantra had gotten a little louder.

“Do you have something of use to contribute?” Karen asked, venomous. Even after that peak behind the curtain last night, she found herself even more discomforted and on guard than she had been before. Sure, underneath all the unpleasantness was a normal person who worried about people he loved and felt responsible for things that weren’t his fault, just like everyone else.

But that somehow made it _worse_.

Murray seemed to feel the same way. As if they were fleeing from each other’s vulnerabilities at high speed; retreating to the comfort of barely hidden disdain.

He got up, falling silent as he aggressively shuffled through a stack of newspapers. He pulled one out and brandished it roughly. “I’ve seen that name before,” he finally said. He slammed a paper down in front of them, barely missing squashing one of their breakfast biscuits.

The article he pointed out was squashed at the corner of the page.

_RealTek Innovations Lab Opens in Evanston._

Karen skimmed the article. A private scientific research lab, state of the art, blah blah blah.

“So the lab manufacturing the cages…”

“A private research lab that conveniently opened two weeks before the first Jack Franklin stayed at the motel. This is the lead Nancy found. RealTek is connected to the demodogs and the storage facilities and the fake names at the motel.”

“So how do we get into the lab?” Joyce asked. “They’ve learned from their earlier mistakes. I don’t think they’ll be so kind to trespassers now that they aren’t government funded. And no one can stumble in under the pretense of it being public, like they did with Starcourt.”

Murray was shuffling through more papers.

“Well, only having one place to break into really does simplify things,” Karen said.

“We don’t have to _break_ in,” Murray said. Another newspaper slammed down on the table. Karen saved her coffee just in the nick of time.

_RealTek to hold Fundraising Dinner, proceeds to support science programs in local schools._

“A fancy event in their state-of-the-art science lab? That’s a gamble. A lot of public attention for them.”

“It’s probably mostly for the wealthy assholes who are in on this sick shit. I doubt it’s actually going to be full of randoms,” he said. “I think I can get us in, though. And if we can get into this party, we can probably find out what we need. Or find Nancy and Jonathan.”

“ _How_ are we going to get in?” Karen asked.

Murray was walking over to his phone, dialing a number from memory. “May I speak with Henry? I know he’s probably still hungover, but I promise I’ll be quick.”

There was a pause.

“Hank! It’s Murray Bauman.” His voice was a fake nice she’d never heard before, but his face was fully betraying his irritation. “Look, I know you have press passes to that RealTek fundraiser at the end of the week. I was hoping you might help an old friend out and give me two of them.”

Joyce was waving three fingers in his face and he was waving her off aggressively.

“No, I’m not thinking aliens, Hank. I’m just interested. It’s pretty close to where my mom lives, you know? She called me all worried about radiation and I thought I’d check it out for my own benefit. I guess paranoia runs in the family.” He fake laughed. “Rachel’s good. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Naomi too. You did? That’s nice. Hope the boys are well.”

Listening to Murray fake-schmooze, making conversation like a normal person was surreal. Is this what it looked like when Murray actually made an effort?

She had to admit, it was almost nice to hear what he could sound like if he decided to be a nice, normal person.

He put two fingers to his head and mimed shooting himself and kind of ruined it, though.

“Yeah, two passes. I was gonna…bring a…date…” he choked out. “I appreciate it, Hank. See you there, then.”

He hung up, shuddered, and sighed. “Okay, we’ve got an in.”

“ _Two_ tickets?”

“I can’t show up with two dates! They’ll know it’s bullshit!”

“Why couldn’t we just be assistants?”

“That’s even _less_ believable. I’m unemployed, remember?”

“Yeah, and I’m sure they’d buy someone as attractive as Joyce wanting to go on a date with you,” Karen snarked.

“Joyce isn’t going in,” Murray said. “Brenner’s men would recognize her in a second.”

“Oh, no. No. No. _No_ ,” Karen said. “Can you call them back and explain it’s not a date, then? To preserve my dignity?” she said, pointing at the phone.

Murray rolled his eyes. “Trust me, being seen with the porno version of June Cleaver isn’t my idea of a great date, either.”

Karen’s jaw dropped. “If this is going to be how it is, I’m definitely not coming!” she said.

“You _have_ to go,” Joyce said, squeezing in between them before a real fight broke out. “I’ll be damned if we ruin our chance to save Jonathan and Nancy because you two can’t get along! Stop it right now!” She pointed a menacing finger at Murray. “That was out of line.”

He rolled his eyes. “Look, the event is Saturday night. We can separate and reconvene on Saturday to put the plan into motion. We get into the event, sneak Joyce into the back door and we look around while the party’s going on and see what we can find. Sounds good? Good.”

“I have a couple of questions,” Karen said. “Very essential, for the mission.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Who_ were who on the phone with? And who’s Rachel?” she asked, leaning forward, her chin in her hands.

“Hank is an editor at the Chicago Sun Times, my old job,” he said. “And Rachel is my ex-wife.”

“You were _married_?”

He scowled. “Yes.”

“So Naomi is…?”

“…My daughter.”

“Why don’t you ever mention them?”

Joyce looked like she was on the verge of slapping them both, but Karen couldn’t stop herself from prying.

“Because we aren’t on speaking terms at the moment,” he said, moving over to his record player. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try and forget that I signed up for this suicide mission.”


	15. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting PLOTTY now. this thing is monstrous long and a lil on the ridiculous side. thanks for sticking with it?? also i got tired of the chapter names so i changed them to numbers but i'm cobbling together a spotify playlist with the songs i've been using to write this fic at some point soon! comments are life!

Waiting five days until the RealTek event was almost torture for Karen. She went about her routines as best she could. She talked with Ted’s lawyer about the divorce, and that seemed like such a minor thing, now, with everything happening. She didn’t really care who got what or how much child support was paid when she knew her kids were in unfathomable danger.

One way or another, at the end of the week, she would be able to bring Nancy home. Alive or dead.

_No_.

She wasn’t going to think that.

Nancy was strong. Jonathan was strong. She’d find them and they’d be fine, and she’d apologize for not knowing what they’d been going through. And things would be good.

“Mom! Mom! We got something!” Michael said, bursting through the front door, waving his walkie-talkie around.

“What is it?”

“I think we picked up a radio in the demodog van, and the Dog Catcher was talking to someone,” he said. “They said something about ‘the sister’! And I thought maybe they were talking about Nancy! But…”

“Slow down, slow down,” she said, sitting him down on the couch as Lucas, Max, and Dustin burst in behind him.

“They said, ‘we’re still trying to find the sister’,” Max said. “Then the van guy said, ‘I thought we got the sister’.”

“Then the other guy said ‘no, wrong sister. We have the father. Need the sister.’,” Dustin completed, breathless.

Karen shook her head. “Okay, okay, go get everyone a glass of water, Max, if you could?” she said. Max seemed the least breathless. Honestly, it was probably because she was in the best shape of all of them, with how much she was always skateboarding.

Max went off to fetch water.

“The sister? Who has a sister?”

“Just me and Lucas,” Mike said. “But they wouldn’t be trying to get Erica.”

“And the father…but…El’s dad is dead. And I don’t think they kidnapped Lonnie Byers,” Lucas said.

Karen thought maybe keeping the truth about the Chief from the kids was starting to become less and less possible. “Look, we need to call Joyce and ask what she thinks. Maybe there’s something to it. That was good work, you guys. Really good.”

“We’ve been staking out the motel for ages, we really thought we blew it and they were never coming back,” Dustin said, flopping down in a chair.

Max came back with the drinks for everyone.

Karen called Joyce and let them speculate on their own.

“The kids intercepted a radio conversation in the Dog Catcher van,” she said. “A message about looking for ‘the sister’. They said they got the wrong sister, but they had the father.”

Joyce was silent on the other line. “Can you and all the kids head to Mount Vernon as soon as possible?”

“Yeah. I can leave tonight.”

“I’m gonna call Murray. I think we need to move quickly.”

“Joyce, what’s going on? Whose sister?”

“It’ll be easier to explain when you get here. Bring Steve and Robin. And supplies. They’ll have them.”

Joyce hung up without saying goodbye, and Karen stared at the phone for a second. “Kids?” she called. “Pack some things. Supplies. We’re going to Joyce’s.”

“What? What did Ms. Byers say?” Dustin called. “Is El in trouble? Is Will all right?”

“Go get Steve and Robin, tell them to pack whatever they can. I’m not sure exactly what we’re going up against, but we should all be together. That’s what Joyce wants.” Really, the idea of keeping everyone together was appealing. The kids needed each other like she needed Joyce.

It took the better part of an hour to corral everyone into the Wheeler living room, leaning on bats and guns, with duffel bags and backpacks bulging. Holly was spending the weekend with Ted anyway, simply for the sake of spending time with her father, so Karen at least had one less thing to worry about in the ensuing scramble. Erica had been instructed to call if anything happened in Hawkins, but Karen hoped with all of them gone, maybe the bad men would follow.

“No stops, no detours. Straight to the Byers’,” she said sternly. “There are snacks in both cars and I expect all of you to use to bathroom before we leave,” she continued when Dustin hesitantly raised his hand. “Straight there. Murray and Joyce should be waiting.” She hadn’t seen Murray since she’d stay over that weekend, and things had been decidedly frosty after she’d decided to pry.

Oh well. He clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever terrible thing had happened to make him what he was. God, was that her future? Was divorce going to turn her into an angry hermit in cutoffs?

Robin, Steve, and Dustin took Steve’s car, with Mike, Max, and Lucas in Karen’s. Divide and conquer.

Strangely, she was reminded of the first trip to Mount Vernon with Nancy and Mike. Singing along to the radio and eating junk food, Nancy trying to lift Karen’s spirits. Teaching Mike to drive.

Things had been nice for a few days, hadn’t they? Even after Ted’s buffoonery had threatened the life she’d worked so hard to make seem perfect, she at least had great kids. She at least had a life worth having.

If she couldn’t save Nancy or protect Mike and Holly, what would she have?

She’d ended up with the perfect American dream and had never really been satisfied by it. Now she’d been given the chance to do something…different. Dangerous, wild. Nothing she’d expect. She almost enjoyed it.

But they had to end it.

Joyce was waiting for them on the porch. Steve had beaten them there by a few minutes, and was waiting with her, leaning on his bat.

Everyone piled inside a house certainly not designed for this many people. Michael wrapped Will and El up in a hug, and the rest of the party joined him.

“So what is it? Who are they looking for?” she asked, gently setting down the duffel she’d hidden their guns in. “If Nancy isn’t the sister -- ?”

“ _My_ sister,” El said, extracting herself from her friends. “My sister Kali.”

She had never heard anything about El having a sister. She didn’t think anyone else had, either, except maybe Joyce.

“And where is she? Is she safe?”

“She’s in Chicago,” El said. “She’s strong, but…I _need_ to go to her. Make sure they don’t get her.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Joyce corrected sharply. “You kids need to stay here with Steve and Robin until we solve this. We know that these bad men are trying to get to you, El. That means you stay put and you stay safe. If you go out there, you’ll be vulnerable. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“I can’t even use my powers, why would they come for me?” she said.

Joyce froze as the shrill ringing of the phone interrupted them. El, closest to where it hung on the wall, reached over to grab it.

“Byers’ Resid –” she started.

She pulled the receiver away from her face, her mouth falling open. “Hop? Dad?” she said, the pitch in her voice rising. “Hop!”

Faintly, over the line, they heard someone yell _“ – Remember the rules. We’re not stupid!”_

Every window in the Byers house shattered all at once as the line went dead and El slammed the receiver down, wiping a trickle of blood from her nose. “We have to save my dad!” she yelled at Joyce, all talk of staying put completely forgotten. El would tear apart every compound and storage facility in the world, judging by the look in her eyes.

Joyce was clearly reeling from the display of power. Whatever had been blocking El for the past year had been broken through. Joyce was equal parts terrified and relieved as she took the girl in her arms. “We’re going to.”

“They know we’re here. We need to _move_. All of us,” Murray said, and whatever illusions they had of the kids holing up for a sleepover weekend while they ended things were thoroughly shattered.


	16. 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a two-fer today because i have almost finished writing this monster. and i wanted to give you guys some baby gays.

They left at dawn to find El’s mysterious sister, barely sleeping but unable to drive another mile before they moved again. Once they got into the city, it took ages to find her, deep in the least comforting part of Chicago. They knew it was the only refuge left to them, but El’s memory of the place was hazy, and whatever abilities she had were not what they’d been before last year.

They didn’t even find the sister; they found a friend of hers.

“Axel!” El called, jumping out of the station wagon before Karen had even parked. A tall man with equally tall hair stopped, halfway through a bite of an old looking sandwich.

“…Shirley Temple?” he asked, tilting his head and frowning. “What the fuck are you doin’ here? Are you in trouble?”

“I’m looking for Kali, is she okay?”

They parked, Steve coming in a few spaces behind them. Karen got out to feed the meter as the kids converged on the delinquent that El was questioning.

“Who the fuck are these people?” he asked, dismissed.

“My family,” El said. “I think bad men are coming from Kali and me. We need to get ready for a fight.”

Axel looked them all over with a hefty sigh. “Come on, country girl, let’s go see Kali,” he said. “Try not to be so…obvious…” he called over his shoulder, leading them down a narrow, dripping alley and in through the back of a huge, abandoned looking building, up a rickety flight of stairs, opening the door into a vast space that was littered with ragged, second-hand furniture, most of which appeared to have been reclaimed from the businesses that had shut their doors in the area.

A girl sat in the middle of the room, with dark hair and her features obscured by shadows.

“Kali!”

“Jane?”

El ran over as the girl stood. She was a girl no older than Nancy, with a teal streak in her dark hair. She embraced El like a long-lost sister would.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she said, petting El’s hair. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Kali, the bad men. They’re trying to find us. They took my Dad and my brother,” she rambled out. “I came to make sure you were okay.”

Kali looked over the motley crew assembled in her home and nodded. “I’m safe, for now. I knew they would come for me someday. We’ll be ready when they do.”

“Hopefully we’ll be able to stop them before it comes to that,” Joyce said, stepping forward. “I’m Joyce. I’m El…Jane’s step-mother,” she said. Karen had never really heard her call herself El’s mother, though El readily thought of Will and Jonathan as her brothers. It seemed like the most fitting description.

Kali reached out to shake Joyce’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kali. This is Axel. That’s Mick and Dottie, and that’s Funshine,” she said, pointing to the gathering individuals.

“Is this place safe?” Karen asked.

“From bad men or from a tetanus standpoint?” Murray muttered to her, and they both snorted a giggle. This whole thing was absurd. El Hopper’s sister was an Indian girl with a British accent who by all appearances led a Chicago street gang. They were being pursued by rogue scientists who potentially made a deal with Soviets to open portals to another dimension.

Karen had tried so hard to stay level-headed during all of this, it was starting to crack her a little.

“If they find us here, they won’t be able to get to us,” Kali said, confidently.

“Good. Because we have to go to Evanston. And soon,” Joyce said. “Splitting up is the only way to do this. You kids stay here and stay safe and we’ll come back soon. If they come for you, fight them. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

“Mom, are you sure? Can’t I come with you to make sure you’re okay?” Will demanded.

“Will,” she said, rubbing his shoulders gently. “You stay here and help your sister and friends.” Hugging him tightly, dragging El into it as well. “You’re both so brave, but you _need_ to stay here.”

“We need your help to set up the new Cerebro,” Dustin added gently. “We can radio up to them. That way we can know they’re okay, even far away.”

Will tore concerned eyes from his mom and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Be safe. Call soon.”

Karen hugged Mike to her as tightly as she could while he squirmed. “Come on, Mom, this is embarrassing.”

“I know. But I have to, I’m your Mom.” She kissed the side of his head a few times, since he was far too tall for much else.

As they divvied up their supplies and milled around, Karen watched the kids as they watched Kali’s gang, in awe of just how _cool_ they all seemed. Steve and Robin were talking to Kali herself, and Robin seemed strangely giggly and nervous.

“I like your hair,” Robin said, face red.

“Uh, thank you. I like your necklace,” Kali responded haltingly.

“Well that’s cute,” Murray said.

Karen ascertained that this was maybe something more than a friendly conversation between the two girls. “Hm. It really is,” she said, because in a world where interdimensional monsters were trying to kill them, why shouldn’t all of them desperately try for the tiniest sliver of happiness? In a normal world, Robin Buckley being infatuated with a girl would be the talk of the neighborhood, but to Karen, it just felt like something that didn’t matter anymore, like her eye color or her height.

As long as she was safe, and kept the kids safe, what else was important? Certainly not her awkward attempt at flirting, though it was endearing how star-struck the usually confident Robin had gotten.

“Be careful, everyone,” she said, and between Joyce and herself, she was sure they hugged all their kids twice. Even Steve and Robin accepted their concerned embraces.

“Keep them in line,” Karen told her, pushing a stray hair out of Robin’s face. “Stay safe.”

It wasn’t yet noon by the time they got to Evanston, on the Friday before they would hopefully end all of this.

They found a diner and, all of them barely awake and entirely non-communicative, slouched inside to get coffee and eggs. “Hotel, sleep, then prepare,” Joyce said.

They agreed in a monotonous groan. They had made an effort to sleep at Joyce’s for a few hours, but none of them really had. She needed it.

When they got to the hotel, Murray checked them in and she didn’t even pay attention, collapsing onto the couch underneath the window and passing out. She hoped she didn’t wake up until it was time, but she had been sleeping so little lately, she didn’t think that would happen.


	17. 16.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because of my work schedule idk when i'll be able to update next (tuesday?? maybe??) so i figured i'd throw another chapter into the pile since i've got like...one more chapter left to write before this fic is done. this one is short because it was written to be one chapter with the chapter that follows it and i had to divide them up so it didn't end up being like 3k words lmao. anyway, you guys are the best!

She woke up to Joyce banging open the door, a bag of cheeseburgers in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other.

“Good afternoon, sleeping beauty,” she said, setting down the food and kicking off her shoes. “It’s time to wake up and start planning.”

She tried to smooth down her hair and wipe away her smudged makeup in the bathroom mirror, her body waking up from the much-needed sleep. “Any word from the kids?” she asked once she rejoined them on the bed.

She’d eaten so much junk food lately, and she barely even felt guilty about it. She wasn’t exactly desperate to impress with her figure right now.

“They radioed half an hour ago to let us know they got their antenna working,” Murray confirmed.

“So, the plan,” Joyce said, swallowing an overlarge mouthful of burger.

“You hang out around the back of the building, wait for our signal, we let you in and search the place. We assume that armed guards will be at a minimum considering the public is there and would be alarmed by such a thing,” Murray said.

“Maybe we find information about what Brenner is up to.”

“Maybe we find the kids.”

“Maybe we die horribly,” he added. “In evening wear.”

“Evening wear?” Joyce asked.

“Oh, this is a black-tie event. I might have forgotten to mention that part,” he said, his grin only slightly malicious. Karen had certainly not packed a dress appropriate for a black-tie cocktail party.

She was only half awake, sipping on a soda, trying to figure out where in Evanston she could grab a cocktail dress in the next 24 hours. “Oh, you are so witty. Because your date showing up inappropriately dressed wouldn’t stick out at all.”

“Oh, you have time to figure it out. Shopping is your specialty, right?”

“I assume you somehow procured a suit? Or am I supposed to find that too?”

“I own a suit, Karen, I’m not a savage.”

“Well you could have fooled me,” she said, dumping her empty fry container in the trash. “You certainly act like one.”

“At least I’m honest.”

“You haven’t been honest with anyone ever, at all,” she said. “And the moment you attempt to be honest, you immediately hide behind twenty-five more layers of bullshit.”

Joyce squeezed the ketchup packet in her hand so hard it burst all over her. She stalked off to clean up. “Karen. We’ll go find you a dress. Murray. I implore you to behave while we’re gone.”

“Have fun, ladies.”

Karen let Joyce drag her out by the hand rather than responding. She was a grown ass woman, she didn’t need this.

“I don’t know how we’ll convince anyone we’re on a date,” she said, seething.

“Oh, you’ve convinced me. I think you’ll be fine.”

“What does _that_ mean, Joyce?”

“We are not opening that can of worms, Karen!” she said. “We’re going to find a last-minute cocktail dress and we’re going to get along and rescue our kids and save the world! That’s it! Whatever is happening with you and Murray is secondary!”

“Nothing is _happening_!”

“ _Spare_ _me_.”

They sat in terse silence until they found an acceptable looking department store.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” Joyce said, still a little frazzled. “This whole thing…”

“I know. It’s been hard. All of this. And not knowing if the kids are okay…” Even though they had only heard from them an hour ago, she still couldn’t shake her nerves. If something happened to Mike or Lucas or Dustin or Max…

She had to think of the mission at hand and not all the horrible possibilities. Just keep moving forward. That’s what she’d always done, and the only thing left to do. And focusing on dress shopping with a friend felt so mundane and normal that it was a welcome distraction from Joyce’s weird comments.

There was certainly nothing happening between them, other than him intentionally getting under her skin like an _asshole_. Sure, he was smart, and she found him hilarious when he decided to turn his scathing wit on someone other than her, and he was the only tangible connection to her daughter she had at the moment…

Ugh. _No_.

“Something you can run in and sensible shoes,” Joyce said, as they walked through aisles of dresses, flipping through them dismissively. Joyce was not a woman who cared much for fashion, and yet always managed to look at least put together. Karen had always loved clothes, but she found herself not caring as much as she might once have.

She managed to find a knee-length black dress with an understated floral pattern that had a loose enough skirt that she could conceivably flee Soviets with guns in. A pair of flat black Mary-Janes complimented it and she was perfectly content with an outfit that wouldn’t make her stand out – not her usual preference but it felt fitting for the mission at hand. She would be more subtle. She would blend in. Like a spy.

She focused on sorting through ammo while Joyce showered. “So why don’t you talk to your ex-wife?” she asked innocently.

Murray glared at her. “Well, everyone was convinced I’d had a nervous breakdown. So…it was awkward. Then it had been a year and a half, and that was more awkward. Now it’s been three years, so why bother?”

“Don’t you _want_ to talk to them?”

“Well, yes, but I’ve accepted that I don’t get what I want in life. That’s just how it is.”


	18. 17.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, i'm gonna be honest i desperately want to fuck brett gelman and maybe i've projected a little bit but he looks fine as fuck in a suit and follow him on instagram to see him and cara buono occasionally heart react to each other's selfies AKA the reason this ship exists

Joyce looked more alive than she had in hours after the shower, coming out of the bathroom in a pair of Murray’s shorts and a loose t-shirt, flopping back onto the bed and sighing in relief. “Much better.”

“I hope we’re ready,” Murray said, and he disappeared into the bathroom a few minutes later.

“We are. Aren’t we?” Karen asked.

“Yeah, of course. I’m gonna stake out the building and find a good vantage point.”

“Alone?” She didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“Yes. If you two get seen poking around that building, we don’t have a way inside. If I get seen, I just run back to Chicago and wait. We don’t want to blow the whole game.”

“Is that a good idea? Will you be okay?”

“Of course. I’m Joyce goddamn Byers.”

They both started laughing, and they didn’t stop until Murray emerged from the bathroom, towel around his shoulders.

“Did you…” Joyce paused, tilting her head as he threw the used towel into the unofficial dirty linen pile growing in the corner. “Did you trim your --?” She gestured to her whole face, because that’s where the change was most drastic.

He had, by the looks of it, trimmed a lot of things. All of a sudden, Murray’s beard and hair was closer cropped and neatened up. It took away from the eccentric, misanthropic image he maintained and made him look a little more…civilized. _Nice_ , even.

“Don’t get used to it. It’s just for the party,” he said.

Karen was taken aback when he took off his glasses and looked even better, somehow. If only there was a way to keep him from talking and ruining the whole thing.

“Damn, Murray,” Joyce said appraisingly.

“Keep it in your pants,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, don’t get too confident,” Karen snarked. “It’s just a _slight_ step up from crazy hermit.”

Joyce was biting down on her hand, a look of tired irritation growing in her eyes. Really, what was her problem? She wasn’t the one having to deal with this, Murray at least was too scared of her to be a dick.

“God, so astute. Do you have to dig really deep for those insults? I’m sure you have a much easier time insulting the PTA mothers who wouldn’t know an insult from a block of Jello, with a wit like that.”

Joyce’s scream was muffled by her fist.

“Well, unlike you, I don’t go around insulting everyone I meet, so it’s not really a problem. I mean, it’s clearly why no one can tolerate being around you,” she said primly. She was unable to stand it. Every step forward with him was followed by an erratic backslide. He couldn’t ever just be decent, and it felt like she couldn’t either, when stuck in his orbit.

“Oh my God!” Joyce all but yelled.

“If you’d rather sleep in the van, it can be arranged,” he said, gesturing. “I can’t say devoting all of my time to being around you has been a walk in the park either.”

“I am _infinitely_ more tolerable than you. At least I understand basic manners!”

“If that’s the bar you set for tolerable, then I absolutely understand how you wound up with a mediocre piece of garbage husband, because your standards are far, _far_ too low –”

“If my standards were actually low, I’d be –”

“ _Children_!” Joyce shouted. “Good Lord, Murray, if this is how you felt last year with me and Hop, I apologize.”

“It is _not_ the same,” he got out through gritted teeth. “I am not –”

“Spare me! It’s exactly the same! You’re both seething, sexually frustrated rage-monsters!”

“I am not sexually frustrated!” Karen said, jaw dropping at Joyce’s sudden boldness.

“Oh, really? When was the last time you had an orgasm outside of your bathtub, Karen? The 70s?” she snarked. “Oh, wah, Ted left you! _Good_! He was the worst! And I say that having married _Lonnie_!”

Karen stiffened up and allowed herself to be scolded.

“Now you’re wrestling with the fact that this guy knew your daughter better than you did, and way better than Ted ever bothered to, and you _like_ him for that. But you couldn’t possibly admit that assholes in glasses are just your type! And honestly? You desperately need to just _get some_ , but your pride won’t allow you to just communicate your needs to anyone. Probably because you think you shouldn’t have needs at all because of whatever fucked up suburban brainwashing you’ve undergone!”

“Joyce, you are way off base!” she said, but it didn’t really feel sincere. Maybe she _had_ been brainwashed. And the comment about orgasms wasn’t _that_ far off…

“Please don’t –” Murray started, before Joyce turned on him.

“And _you_! I’m even more disappointed in you! You constantly get on everyone else’s case about admitting when they have feelings for each other, but you’ve been completely on the defensive since you met Karen. Like, you can’t pretend she’s not the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met, you freaking moron! Look at her!”

“That’s not –” he stammered.

“Oh, what is it then? The crushing guilt you’re unsuccessfully hiding? No one blames you for what happened to Nancy and Jonathan! No one blames you for what happened to Jim or Alexei! Stop intentionally pushing everyone away! You blew up your life and never tried to fix it when you had a chance to, and that’s on you. You know why you keep everyone at arm’s length? Not because you’re hiding from _Them_ , or whatever, because you’re afraid of getting hurt again! Grow up, we’re all hurting! Human connection won’t kill you.” 

Karen never thought she’d see Murray shame-faced and humbled by someone else, and if she hadn’t been so thoroughly chewed out herself, she might have been able to enjoy it.

“I implore you right now, to just _get it over with_. You’re both way too messed up to actually have a relationship, but if we ruin this mission because you’re too horny to focus, I will _kill both of you_!”

She definitely, _definitely_ meant it; the finger she had in Murray’s face might as well have been a gun.

“I’m going to start my stake-out. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, grabbing her duffle bag and slamming the door behind her without another word.

“Joyce don’t leave me –” Karen called, but she was already gone.

“Well that was uncalled for,” Murray said, his tone forcibly casual. “I’m not – I don’t…”

They were suddenly both very aware that this room only had one bed, both standing up on opposite sides of it like it would shield them from the awkward tension.

“She’s so…” Karen said.

He read her thoughts. “Yeah. Really. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Completely ridiculous.”

They stood in silence, unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m going to get a drink,” he said, at the same time she said, “I’m going to go take a walk.”

They found themselves in each other’s path, the small room not really accommodating Karen’s desire for a quick escape as she bumped into Murray’s chest.

He tried to move out of the way, but she tried to move the same way. They tried again, and it was the awkward dance of two people trying to pass each other in a narrow grocery aisle. Only way, way worse, because she was getting flushed and trying not to think of what Joyce had said, which made her think _only_ of what Joyce had said.

“God, you’re a giant, move!” she said, raising a hand to swat him on the arm, at the same time that he reached up and grabbed it.

She had no idea which one of them moved to lace their fingers together, but the sensation of holding someone’s hand made her heart flutter a little bit. “Uhm…”

“Sorry.” He dropped her hand. She didn’t know what he was sorry about. She took a step back, willing to give up on the need to take a walk and just return to the safety of the bed and get out of his personal space. Except, she didn’t get further than that one step back before Murray’s hands were in her hair and she’d grabbed his shirt for stability and, oh shit, they were kissing.

When had they started kissing?

With her back against the wall, she was of the mind to never actually stop. All the frustration she’d felt having to deal with him was being channeled into the kiss, and it wasn’t necessarily rough, but it was certainly more aggressive than she was used to.

“I’m an asshole,” Murray said under his breath when they broke apart for quick breath.

“You only just now realized?” she asked. The comment got her pushed harder into the wall with another kiss, her shirt discarded and her shorts following it swiftly. They broke apart after a few minutes and she tried to focus on an interestingly depressing stain on the wall for a moment while she gathered her thoughts.

There was a soft sort of reverence on his face when she could bear to look at him. “What?” she said, wishing they could go back to the angry kissing. This made her feel too... She didn’t know what to make of it. Had she done something weird? She was probably rusty. She hadn’t been with anyone but Ted in almost twenty years, and it had been ages since they’d… God, she was a _mess_.

“Was Joyce right with that orgasm crack?” he asked, smiling a little at her sudden self-doubt.

She bit her lip, unable to give him a straight answer because she didn’t really have one. That was apparently all the answer he needed. He dropped his hands from where they’d been resting on the sides of her face and stepped away. She was suddenly very cold and very exposed.

“Get on the bed.” Like everything else that came out of Murray’s mouth it was a curt demand, but in that moment it was less annoying and more… _Well_.

She didn’t immediately move.

“Lay down. We might die tomorrow, I’m going to make this worth your while,” he said, steering her so he could push her onto the bed.

“Are you always this bossy?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. She quickly discovered there _was_ a way to get Murray to stop talking.


	19. 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now with 50% more cunnilingus jokes

“Let’s _not_ tell Joyce this happened,” she said, lying in bed sore and giggly with exhaustion sometime later.

“We wouldn’t want her to know she was right,” he agreed, lying on his side, propped up on his elbow and looking down at her. “She’ll get a big head.”

Karen laughed. “That was…” It apparently took a sharp burst of color for her to realize she’d been living in black and white for _years_. She knew she’d been dissatisfied, but she just kind of thought everybody else was too, and they all retreated to their romance novels and fantasies to compensate the way she did. It was easy to justify Ted’s lack of effort when she just assumed no one else was making effort either. Or that effort was just a thing for fantasy books.

She’d been _wrong_.

After weeks of disdaining his smug self-assurance, she got a tiny thrill of delight at the doubt on his face as she waited for her to finish her thought, but she couldn’t leave him dangling too long. He’d gone above and beyond expectation, after all. “It was incredible,” she said.

“Your standards really are tragically low,” he said, shaking his head before he leaned forward, kissed her bare shoulder and wrapped his arms around her again. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s the big day.”

“Self-deprecating?” she said, distantly remembering a time when he’d scoffed at her for that very thing.

“Bragging about my sexual prowess would be tacky,” he replied, in a tone that was very much bragging. “Goodnight.”

She slept soundly for once. It had been weeks since she’d felt like she’d gotten restful sleep. Maybe even since before Nancy disappeared, if she thought about it hard enough. Had she become that dependent on the presence of someone else to sleep?

The sun was only barely shining through the cheap blinds when she opened her eyes that morning.

She was resting on Murray’s arm, facing him, with one of his hands tangled in her hair and the other resting on her cheek. “Go back to sleep,” she said, curling deeper into the embrace and squeezing her eyes shut. “We still have time.”

“Hey, look at me for a second,” he said.

She opened her eyes again and looked up at him. Lying there like that felt a hundred times more intimate than everything else that had transpired that night. She kind of wanted to run and hide from it.

“You do know you’re amazing, right?” he said. “Not just beautiful. Smart, capable, all of that? Completely out of my league.”

Sleepily, she thought of making a sarcastic comment, but the impulse left as quickly as it arrived. He was looking right at her, being honest. That thing she’d called him incapable of. Like an asshole. God, she’d been an asshole. Not that he hadn’t been, but…

“I’m not out of your league,” she responded, not sure what else she could say, because she couldn’t remember the last time a man complimented something that wasn’t her looks or her cooking. “I’m here, right?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t sincere. “Look, if this mission goes badly…”

“Murray, please, can we not –”

“Listen to me,” he said, in that same demanding tone he always used. “If tonight goes badly you need to do something for me.”

Karen waited.

“Can you just tell Nancy that I’m really proud of her? If I don’t get a chance to?”

“Can you stop acting like this mission is a death sentence?”

“Can you stop acting like it’s a day at the pool?” he shot back. “You told me I was never honest, and I’m trying to be honest with you now. Joyce and me already talked about what to do if something happens to one of us. But…can you just please do this one thing?” It reminded her of the sad desperate look he’d had on his face the night that Nancy had ‘died’.

“As long as you can do the same for me.” It was the first time she’d acknowledged the risks out loud. The first time she’d let herself dwell on the fact that this was dangerous for all of them.

“You’re not going to –” He seemed to realize halfway through that he was doing the same thing she had just done. Sinking into the denial. “Deal. Tell her that helping her was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

She nodded. “I think you know everything I want to say to her already,” she said, putting a hand over his. “But we won’t have to.”

“Your confidence is unshakable.” He half-laughed, half-grumbled. “This is going to be dangerous. You have to promise you’ll be careful,” he said, but she leaned forward and started kissing his neck, tangling their legs together, trying to get him to just _stop_ talking about this. She didn’t want to think about it this early. She wanted one more hour of peace. “…This isn’t Hawkins, you can’t just ram a monster with your station w…” She didn’t let up, and he wasn’t exactly resisting. “Dammit, woman, I’m being serious…” She kissed him firmly, and he finally seemed successfully distracted. “You’re _infuriating_.” He smiled when he said it, though.

“And you talk too much,” she said. “Can we go back to last night when you _weren’t_ talking?”

“I guess we do have a little while before we have to meet Joyce,” he said, extracting himself from her grip and pushing her back into the mattress.

Time passed quickly, and she wasn’t even aware of it, until the door to the hotel room swung open. “Has it really been an hour?” was her first impulse, until she was aware that – oh _god_ – Joyce had walked into the hotel room.

“ _An hour?_!”

“ _Joyce_! _Knock_!” Murray shouted from under the sheets somewhere while Karen jerked the comforter over her chest. “God _dam_ mit!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Joyce said, the door closing gently behind her.

The spell broken, she looked over at the clock beside the bed. “We have to go,” she said, though he was happy to resume where they’d been interrupted. “Murray, we can’t… No time. We have to go.” She really, really didn’t want to go, though.

“After, then,” he said when he finally emerged, fumbling for his glasses.

It was the only time he’d ever sounded like he thought they’d get out alive, and the only time either of them acknowledged there might be more waiting for them after all of this. It was easy to call it a fling in the face of imminent death, but what _would_ happen after?

“But we can’t tell Nancy,” she said, pulling on her clothes and straightening her hair in the mirror while Murray got dressed. She didn’t know how long this would go on, but she couldn’t imagine her daughter approving.

“Agreed.”

They met a red-faced Joyce in the lobby, walking down to the diner for breakfast.

“I’m glad you’re finally getting along,” was all Joyce said on the subject. Though she incredulously mouthed ‘an hour?’ to Karen behind Murray’s back, and gave her a thumbs up.

It was quite possibly the end of the world, so Karen ordered extra whipped cream on her French toast.


	20. 19.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i... have finished writing this fic. now it's just a matter of posting so i'll probably just update every day or two and it'll be all wrapped up by next week (which is good because school starts next week and i am Not. Prepared.) Anyway all of your comments are amazing and nice and I love all of you. I have to work until 10 PM tonight so getting the email notif I have a comment really makes the day tolerable.

“There’s a back entrance on the left side of the building that seems to be connected to a hall that leads from the main room where they’re setting up for the party. I didn’t see anything suspicious, but that looks like the best entry point,” Joyce told them as they prepared to leave her to join the party.

Murray wore a suit surprisingly well, though he seemed to have a personal vendetta against the tie, miming using it as a noose before he slipped into his jacket.

“You look nice,” she said as he straightened his cuffs.

“I feel like an asshole.”

“Stating the obvious again?” she said, shaking her head. “Wearing a suit doesn’t make you an asshole.”

“Yeah but statistically, a guy in a suit is way more likely to be an asshole than –”

“A guy in a bathrobe and jean shorts?” Karen retorted. “Can’t say that’s been my experience.”

He glared at her, but it lacked any real heat. “As always, you look miraculous.”

She tried not to blush as Joyce hid behind her hands, embarrassed. “ _Go_ , you two. Radio when you’re in position.”

They were fashionably late to the party, as one had to be. It was an expensive, fancy cocktail party that put Karen way out of her depth. This was not a small-town get together by any means. There were items to bid on and raffles to enter, all the usual ways to fundraise, but it felt odd to fundraise in a building that was worth more than the entire town of Hawkins, probably.

She wondered if they knew they were funding monsters and communists.

Would they care? Or were they more delighted by tiny shrimp skewered on tiny forks?

Rubbing elbows with the upper class was daunting, but she remembered the handgun in her purse and felt less intimidated, looping her arm through Murray’s, trying a couple of hors d’oeuvres, and looking around.

“No guards in the hallway that Joyce mentioned,” she said as they scanned the room.

“Guards at the elevator and front stairwell, though. Armed,” he agreed under his breath. Then he grumbled. “Hank!”

“Murray fucking Bauman. Look at you,” ‘Hank’ said. He was a short guy with neat hair and thin, wire-rimmed glasses. He had a press pass around his neck. “I’m almost glad you talked me into giving you those tickets just to see your crazy ass. It’s been too long.”

“Since you fired me, yeah,” Murray said, shaking Hank’s hand.

“I gotta say, freelance work has done you some good. You look…” Hank gestured. “Well. Less like the nutjob I remember from two and a half years ago,” he said, laughing bombastically.

“I can’t imagine what that was like,” Karen said in a pitchy, fake voice.

“Well, we won’t get into the nitty gritty. I’d hate to scare you off if I was this big lug,” Hank said, reaching out to shake her hand. “Introduce me to this vision, Bauman, before I steal her off you.”

She squeezed his hand, pressing against his wedding ring sharply. _Men_. “I’m Lauren Gunderson,” she said. “Nice to meet you Mr....”

“Hank Jefferson.”

“Mr. Jefferson.”

“Everyone calls me Hank,” he said.

“Good to know, Mr. Jefferson” she said, flagging down a waiter for another drink. She was only allowing herself two, knowing that getting drunk would be unproductive, but needing to loosen herself up in order to not be consumed by the fear of what they were doing.

Murray played catch-up with Hank for a few minutes, and as the party reached capacity, a hundred or more people crammed into this atrium, marveling at the scientific equipment behind glass panels on display, she thought maybe it was time for her to slip away.

“I’m just going to slip off to the ladies,” she said quietly.

“Oh, can I watch?” Hank said immediately.

Murray glared at him, releasing his hand from her lower back, but leaning in to very deliberately kiss her. It was strange to act like a couple, but he seemed to be taking some small amount of delight in it, and that somehow made her more apprehensive than the thought of facing down Russians or demodogs.

She pulled away and disappeared into the crowd, taking another tiny shrimp fork on her way. She got two steps into the hallway before someone grabbed her arm.

“Ma’am, are you lost?” a man asked.

She turned and trying to arrange her face into something a little more innocent. “Just looking for the restroom,” she said, biting her lower lip. Lauren Gunderson was breathy and naturally flirtatious. That was just who she was.

The uniformed man pointed to a doorway across the room. “Restrooms are on the other side of the atrium,” he said.

“Thank you so much! I don’t know what I’d do without someone kind enough to show me around,” she said, putting a hand on his arm and smiling.

The guard blinked, moving so he was between her and the hallway and gently corralling her back. Over his shoulder, she saw the door open, and saw two more uniformed guards leading Joyce in, one carrying her bag of weapons and the other holding her by the shirt collar. They were barely a flash in the hallway, gone in an instant.

“I’ll just be going then,” she said, her voice dropping as she turned around, bumping right into Murray.

“Is there a problem?”

“Oh, no, silly me just got lost!” she said, trying to keep ahold of herself as panic welled in her. She grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him away from the guard, towards where he had indicated the restroom was.

“Karen…”

She leaned in. “They have Joyce. We _need_ to get back there,” she whispered, playing it off as a kiss on the cheek before she fled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face and trying not to cry.

_Keep it together, Wheeler. What would Joyce do if the situations were reversed?_

She’d figure something out. 

She looked around the bathroom, breathing heavily and trying to think of a plan.

There was a knock on the door.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to muster the fake perky voice and failing. Something red caught her eye, and she realized what she had to do.

Grabbing the fire alarm, she pulled it roughly, slipping out of the bathroom as the sprinklers went off and the blaring alarm sounded.

_I’m Karen Goddamn Wheeler,_ she told herself. _No one_ was stopping her. They weren’t going to hurt her friend or keep her kid from her for a second longer.

As everyone pushed towards the door, trying to escape the imaginary fire and the watery onslaught, they found their way back to the hallway, following the direction she’d seen Joyce being pulled in until they caught up with her.

“Joyce, catch!” she said, lobbing the taser she’d hidden in her purse towards her friend.

Joyce nearly fumbled but caught it and immediately hit the guard holding her with it, turning and kneeing the second guard in the groin and jerking the duffel bag out of his grip as he stumbled off balance.

“That was close,” Joyce said, taking a breath.

They slammed open the door to the stairway, the alarm finally fading as Murray wrestled with the lock. As they ran down the stairs, a door below them opened. Mentally preparing herself for another onslaught of guards, she pulled the shotgun out of the duffle bag, tossing the smaller rifle to Joyce.

Only to come face to face with a battered Jim Hopper.


	21. 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hardest thing about writing stranger things fic when you're only using one POV is conveying how they do the "everyone has their own storyline that eventually coalesces". like, hopper, nancy and jonathan clearly went through their own shit, and the kids + kali are going through their own shit, but i don't wanna break format (because i'm lazy). so i leave it to your imagination.

“What in the fuck are you doing here Joyce?” he all but screamed, thundering up the stairs and grabbing her in what could only be described as the angriest hug Karen had ever seen.

“Rescuing you,” she said, pulling back and caressing his face gently before she leaned in to kiss him.

Karen turned away to be polite, and Murray looked at his watch.

“We really don’t have time for you to consummate this beautiful reunion quite yet,” he finally said, and Joyce looked sheepish when they pulled apart, but Hopper just grinned.

“Murray,” he said, reaching over and grabbing him.

“Jim. Good to see you,” he said, oddly sincere as they hugged and bumped foreheads for a second. “But we gotta find Nancy and Jonathan and get out of here. Have you seen them?”

“Seen them? No. I only got brought here a week ago. But they’re here. I was gonna bust them out while the place is undefended.” He grimaced, rubbing his arms. That’s when Karen noticed the scars and cuts littering them. They looked like bites, but not from the mouth of anything that existed in their world.

Joyce pulled the last of their weapons from the bag; Hopper’s revolver. Murray was entrusted with the handgun.

“Undefended?” Murray asked.

“This is a trap,” Hopper said as they continued down.

“What do you mean?”

“There aren’t any men here. They suspected you’d gate crash. They knew you’d leave the kids undefended if you showed up.”

“Jokes on them, they’re not undefended,” Joyce said. “And no shit it’s a trap, Hopper.”

“They left you and Nance and Jonathan here so they could go get El?” Karen said, connecting the remaining dots. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Mike would be okay.

“And you left them unguarded!” Hopper said, accusatory. “We need to go get them, now!”

“They _aren’t_ unguarded!” Joyce repeated. “El’s sister and her friends have weapons and resources! They can hold them off ‘til Owens gets there!”

“When did you call Owens?” Murray asked, looking shocked at Joyce’s guile.

“This morning while you two were…busy,” she said, sniffing. “I’m not an idiot, Hop! I knew we’d need backup!” she explained. “I knew they wanted to separate us! They always do!”

“El’s sister? Seriously? Wait, what were _they_ busy doing?” Hopper asked, turning to them, clearly overloaded with new information, unable to figure out what ridiculous part of the situation to focus on. “Wait, Karen, _what the fuck are you doing here?”_

“Looking for my damn daughter, Hopper! Let’s go before they catch us!” she said, pushing past them to continue down the stairs.

“It’s not the guards we’re going to need to worry about,” he said. They passed the floor Hopper had emerged from and continued down. “I think they’ll be down here,” he said. From where they exited, the hallway stretched on in two different directions.

“I guess we have to split up,” Joyce said.

“Left?” Karen asked Murray. He nodded.

“Then we’re going right,” Hopper said, taking Joyce’s free hand.

Yips and shrieks that were chillingly familiar echoed down the hall.

“Let slip the dogs of war,” Murray said in a droll voice. He started opening doors, mostly finding closets and empty rooms full of panels of buttons and unintelligible screens. Pulsing membranes lit up one wall of screens. Something out of a horror movie; she could picture the demodogs pushing their way through that. She could see the faint shadows of a landscape, and figures moving in the dark, eerie red glow.

“Is that a gate?” she asked, wanting to know what it was that was going to haunt her nightmares for the foreseeable future.

“I think so. I never actually…saw it. This looks smaller, though, than what Ale – our friend described, last year. I guess that’s what they were working on. Smaller gates that take less energy to open.”

They were faced with a small janitorial closet when the first pack of dog-like creatures rounded the corner. Murray pulled her inside and slammed the door behind them, and the dogs seemed to continue past them.

“We should probably save our ammunition for the real fight,” he said by way of explanation. “Just in case.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, little keenly aware of their proximity in that moment. Now probably wasn’t the time for any of it, but she kissed him anyway. It was just adrenaline, all right? “We should keep moving,” she said before they got too lost in it.

“Or we could hide until Jim finds them…”

“No! Don’t be an idiot!” she said, half-laughing, half-scolding. “We have to find our daughter!”

They were halfway down the hall and unloading bullets into an electronic lock before she realized what she said. Judging by the look on Murray’s face, he realized it too.

The door clicked open before she could correct herself, and they were facing a tiny, dimly lit room and –

“ _Mom_?!”

“Nancy! Jonathan!” she said, relieved, mostly to see them alive but a tiny part of her was relieved that she could forget that conversation happened.

In the dim light she could see dark bruises and blackened dried blood on Nancy’s arms and face as she got off the rickety bench and walked towards Karen. Tears were welling up in Nancy’s eyes and Karen felt them too, handing off the gun so she could hug her daughter.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

“What are you _doing_?” Nancy said, pulling back to look Karen over, as if she were the one in trouble, and not Nancy herself.

“I came to find you, duh. I found your clue, after the wreck,” she said.

Nancy looked surprised, and over at Murray, who had helped Jonathan to a standing position. “I left that for you,” she said.

He nodded. “She’s quicker than me, what can I say?”

“I’m so glad you found us,” she concluded, turning back to Karen. “But we have to get out of here. They’re after El, I could hear them talking –”

“We know. El’s safe for now, but we need to hurry. Can you run?” she asked them, giving Jonathan a look over when Nancy moved to hug Murray and take the shotgun from him.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Is my mom here?”

“Yeah, and Jim. We split up a few minutes ago. We need get moving,” Murray said, lifting up the radio. “Guys, we found them. Reconvene at the exit.”

The crackling static of the radio was replaced by gunfire on the other end. “Copy that. See you in a second.”

Nancy looped her arm around Jonathan, the gun in her free hand. “There’s a weird energy in here,” she said, looking between Karen and Murray suspiciously. “Is your lipstick smudged?”

“We were running from demodogs,” she lied, quietly trying to wipe away the offending makeup.

Apparently, her lies weren’t quite up to snuff for Nancy’s keen eye. “Were you two making out?”

“ _No_!” Murray said. “Go before we leave you to get eaten.”

“No you won’t, you love us too much,” Nancy said, in good spirits despite their bleak, stainless steel surroundings. Maybe she just thrived in the darkness.

Karen felt like they hadn’t gone far from the stairwell on the way down the hall, but the way back seemed like it was taking forever, every distant bang and shout jumping down her spine like a jolt of electricity.

The dog pack came around the corner first, Jim and Joyce several paces behind them.

Nancy gently shrugged off Jonathan and walked to the front of the group, taking a well-aimed shot.

“More ammo!” she demanded, and Karen tossed her the shells, grabbing the pistol from her bag and joining the fire. A demodog stumbled and crashed into the piping, cracking it open, a jet of hot steam filling up the hallway. Jonathan dove for it, wrenching a loose pipe from the wreckage, now armed with his own weapon, knocking back another creature. 

“Come on, hit the stairs,” Jim said over the noise, taking aim at the demodog between them and the door. The spray of gore and slime was coating the hallway, and the smell of it was overwhelming. She couldn't imagine dealing with these things full grown. 

They got into the stairwell as more clawed feet scraped against the floor. They could hear bodies bang against the door, but they didn’t pause to contemplate it.

“That was too easy,” Jonathan said, sounding edgy.

“All their men are heading to get El,” Joyce said. “We need to leave now. I don’t know how long they can hold them off, or how long Owens will take to get there. All they wanted to do was stall us, and they succeeded.”

“I’m assuming Owens’ll be late again.”

“Then we’d better get back to Chicago fast,” she deadpanned. “Before Kali’s friends run out of bullets.”


	22. 21

Karen sat in the back of the van with Nancy. Nancy laid her head on Karen’s shoulder and allowed her to fuss over her, wiping away blood stains and combing through her hair, trying to keep both of them calm.

“I’m so sorry,” Karen said. “You’ve done this on your own for years, and I was out there…” What? Lounging by the pool? Objectifying lifeguards? Going to bake sales?

“You wouldn’t have been safe if you knew. And I wasn’t alone. I had Mike, I had Jonathan and Joyce, and Steve. Murray too, I guess,” she said, looking towards the front of the van. Jim and Murray were in the front seat, allowing Joyce to sit with Jonathan, and much like Karen was with Nancy, Joyce seemed to refuse to let go of her son.

Like they could disappear before their eyes if they let them go.

“Eagle’s En Route,” Murray said into the radio. “Scoops Base, come in.”

“Bald Eagle, good to hear your voice,” Dustin came in. It was faint from the back of the car, but he certainly sounded alive. “Griswold Leader?”

“And Griswold 2. Safe. Antique Chariot is returning as well. How is Operation Fortress?”

There was a pop in the distance. “Slightly under duress! Definitely Russians!”

“We’re twenty minutes out and Owens should be en route. Hang tight, Scoops Troop.”

The callsigns were silly but sharp reminders that they’d abandoned a bunch of fifteen-year-old kids to defend themselves against trained mercenaries, with one adult, three twenty-somethings and three 19-year-olds responsible for their safety.

Karen wished traffic in Chicago wasn’t so terrible. She had Nancy, but now she wanted to see Mike. To know he was okay. She trusted that El could protect him, if she was as powerful as they said she was, but it didn’t really help her anxiety, because she was worried about El too. They were just kids.

“Mom, are you okay?” Nancy asked in a whisper.

“Just worried about your brother.”

“He’ll be okay. We’ll be there soon,” she said. “Steve can keep them safe. He protects everyone.” Her eyes starting drooping shut and Karen tried to keep still and allow her the briefest of cat naps.

The sound of gunfire had a different idea, and everyone startled at the quick pops. She had gone from exhausted to alert in a few quick seconds, and Nancy was diving under the seat for where she had hidden the shotgun.

In front of the building, she could faintly see dark-clad men bursting through the front door. She thought hard and slid out of the van.

“The side entrance looks clear,” she said over her shoulder to Joyce. “Let’s go.”

“Mom, maybe you should wait out here,” Nancy said.

“Did you really just tell your own mother to stay in the car?” she asked flatly. “The boys are in danger, let’s not stand around bickering about who can go in and let’s just stick together!”

“I can stay out here with the radio,” Jonathan said gravely, gesturing to his leg. “I’m not moving quick enough for this.”

“Good idea,” Nancy said, seeming happy that at least one person she loved was staying farther from harm. “Look after him,” she ordered Murray.

“Nancy I should –”

“Stay. Here. Jonathan’s hurt. He needs backup.”

“You’re hurt too,” he pointed out.

“You’re not the boss of me. Now stay out here and signal when Owens shows up so he doesn’t firebomb the whole block with us still in there.” She poked him in the shoulder sternly before turning around, adjusting her gun, and rejoining Hopper, Joyce, and Karen.

Murray looked to Karen for backup and she just shrugged. That was his problem.

“This is Griswold 2,” Jonathan said into the walkie-talkie Murray handed him. “Status report, Scoops Leader? Wise?”

“Jona – Griswold 2!” Will’s voice crackled over the radio, but the joy was palpable. “Scoops Troop and the Family are headed to the roof! No way down! Assistance required!”

“Team Bald Eagle en route with Griswold Leader,” he said. “Lock the doors! Do not engage hostiles if possible.”

Something flew through the third-floor window, and they dodged the raining glass as the twisted body of the demodog made a bloody smear against the dumpster. Jim kicked the bent metal door open and led the charge inside, Joyce just behind him.

The first floor was clear, though motionless shapes of demodogs and Brenner’s operatives littered the stairs. Nancy leaned down and took a gun off one of the bodies.

Karen was usually perturbed by violence, even just on television, but she found herself not caring if these men were alive or dead. They were trying to hurt her kids! Why should she care about them at all?

She could hear banging and gunfire, and shouts in a language she didn’t quite understand.

“We left the one guy who speaks Russian outside,” Joyce pointed out in a droll voice, picking up a bat that had clearly been abandoned by one of the kids.

“I’m pretty sure ‘help, I’m being beaten to death with a bat’ is a universal noise,” Nancy replied, rolling her eyes.

They didn’t find any conscious or living enemies until they entered the third floor.

“Lock the door, Joyce,” Hopper said from the front of the pack. She could hear Joyce fumbling with the door that led to the stairs. “Nowhere to go!” he announced loudly as four uniformed men turned on them, the scopes of their rifles an eerie red glow in the darkness.

Three small town parents and one teenage girls against four highly trained Russian operatives and… the four-legged creatures circling the whole floor. Joyce turned, pressing her back to Karen’s. They made a circle.

Apparently their presence had startled the Russians enough that they got to be the quicker draw, and Nancy took aim at them with a quick efficiency.

She shot through the arm of one of the Russians.

“They’re wearing Kevlar,” she announced. “But the demogorgans are attracted to blood.”

True to her prediction, two of the closest dogs turned their attention from the new meat to the bleeding Russian, leaping on him. The other agents didn’t seem to care as their friend fought off the dog. Hopper took aim, and did the same thing. A shot to the knee of the biggest agent.

A dog leaped at their group, not fully distracted by the promise of blood. Karen unloaded the pistol into its open mouth, shocking even herself with how easy that felt. Her heart was pounding, but the spray of black blood and foul slime didn’t choke her.

“Joyce, do you have a lighter on you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“We’re going to push for the stairs and you’re going to drop it in that pile of rags on the way out. We’re torching this place.”

“More troops on the ground, looks like we’ve got company,” the walkie-talkie yelped.

It was only twenty or thirty feet across to the stairs that accessed the roof, and it felt like a mile. The last Soviet standing met the butt of Jim’s gun, and the dogs were happy in their feasting, or as happy as she could imagine being when you were a blind dog-monster driven by hunger and some weird shadowy force from beyond.

Her life had become weird.

They climbed the stairs and Jim banged on the door. “It’s me!” he yelled.

The door was flung open with no one near the knob. The kids were in a tight circle, with the adults surrounding them, weapons at the ready. Steve relaxed his grip on the bat when he saw the Chief and Nancy.

Eleven sprinted across the roof, leaping into Hopper’s arms, audibly crying. Karen grabbed Mike, Dustin, Max, and Lucas in the biggest hug she could manage, while Joyce squeezed the life out of Will, and Robin and Steve closed in on Nancy.

“How are we getting down?” Joyce asked, the smell of smoke under their feet.

Sirens were already blaring in the distance.

“Waiting,” Hopper said. “This building is all brick and iron; it’ll take ages to burn. They’ll be here before then.”

A helicopter circled menacingly overhead, and when the side doors open, there was a shout of dismay from Kali.

“Brenner!” she shouted.

A tall man with neat gray hair watched the burning building, his long coat whipping around him. She recognized him from the pictures. The man who had started all of this. She stood in front of the boys. Nancy fired a shot at the copter, but it was too far. It was more of a warning, judging by her stony expression.

Eleven pulled away from her dad and raised her hand to the helicopter, a cold focus coming over her face. Against the wind and the pull of the rotors, it started to move towards the building.

Smoke was overwhelming them. Fire trucks skidded to a stop surrounding the building, and she heard someone over the bullhorn shouting up to them.

“Owens is here,” Murray rang over the radio.

The helicopter was nearly directly over them, blood dripping out of El’s nose freely now.

The bang and crash of a ladder hitting the side of the building seemed to break her shaky focus, and suddenly it seemed like the Brenner’s helicopter was wrenched from El’s grip.

“No!” she and Kali shouted in dismay as it disappeared into the blackness.

Clambering down the ladder into the street, they were met by medics and firemen, checking over everyone.

“We have a safe house set up for everyone, we need to go quickly,” an authoritative man that could only be the mysterious Dr. Owens said.

Karen allowed herself to be shuffled into a dark SUV, holding onto Mike and Nancy’s hands. Nothing else mattered – they were safe. They were together. She needed to sleep.


	23. 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two more chapters!

They were roused at an unfortunately early hour by one of Owens’ uniform assistants. A medic had already woken up the kids and was meticulously checking them over. When a second girl in scrubs came up, making a move towards Karen, she waved her off.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Really.”

Coffee was distributed amongst the adults and older teens.

“Can we leave?” Axel was loudly protesting. “I don’t want to be here long enough to get brainwashed or whatever freaky shit you’re gonna do to us.”

“Calm down,” Dr. Owens said, walking through the sea of sleeping bags and makeshift cots, munching on a bagel. “You’ll be allowed to leave in due time. We need to make sure everyone is medically clear to walk out of here and that we all understand what happened last night.”

“Hit us with the flimsy coverup then, Doc,” Murray said from the corner, looking deeply unimpressed.

“Oh, well, an old building in a bad neighborhood caught fire and you all happened by. You five heroically made sure no bystanders from nearby buildings got hurt,” he said, pointing to Kali’s friends. “and that’s that.”

“God, we end up involved in a lot of fires,” Robin said sarcastically.

“Fire happens, Miss Buckley.”

“What about Hopper?” Joyce asked. “He’s been _dead_ for a year. He can’t exactly roll into Hawkins and resume his life.”

“Well. A simple case of mistaken identity. He’s been with you in Illinois recovering since he was discovered alive shortly after the mall incident, see. If he chooses to return to Hawkins, he can. But he had so many bad memories attached after the fire that he was content to stay with you and Jane and not go back and announce himself,” Owens said, and Karen had to marvel a little at what a deft liar he was.

“No one is going to poke any holes in that at all,” Jim said, rolling his eyes.

“If anyone’s looking into you that closely, we’ll just assume they’re an enemy,” Owens said, miming a firing gun with two fingers.

“Nance and Jonathan?” Joyce asked.

“Well, the burnt bodies at the morgue they tried to pass off as them won’t be them, and you’ll discover they were hospitalized for several weeks at a different, more distant country hospital, with nasty head injuries that made contacting you difficult. I assume your husband will be too relieved by his daughter’s safety to ask too many questions.”

“ _Estranged_ husband. And most likely.” Ted wasn’t a big question guy, so.

“And what about Brenner?” Hopper and Kali demanded at the same time.

“We’ll find him.”

“Not if I do first,” El said fiercely.

“He’s ours,” Kali said heatedly, pointing at Owens with a menacing finger. “He took everything from me. And he tried again last night. I’m done with mercy.”

“Whoever finds him first, I wish them luck on getting rid of him. He’s a danger to this country every moment he’s allowed to live,” the Doctor said. “Now, you’ll be able to leave more quickly if you cooperate with my men. We aren’t going to do anything but make sure you’re uninjured and send you on your way.”

True to his word, by lunch time they were escorted out of the safe house and back to where the agents had left their cars.

“Are you going back to the city?” El asked Kali.

She nodded. “For now. I’ll come and visit soon, though. It won’t be like last time.” Karen noticed her glance at Robin out of the corner of her eye. “I _promise_ , Jane.”

“Sisters never break a promise,” she said, wiping away tears and hugging her.

They split away from Kali’s gang and the two overloaded vehicles headed towards Mount Vernon. Karen was almost happy for the distraction of driving, because everything that had gone down was making her head swim.

Nancy was asleep behind her, her head on Jonathan’s shoulder, Mike’s head on Nancy’s shoulder, a rare affectionate moment between siblings. Joyce and Hopper were in the back with El and Will. She didn’t think she could get anyone else in this van short of strapping them to the roof.

Murray was staring out the window, watching the scenery pass, oddly quiet.

Now that things were over, she guessed they’d eventually have to talk.

The eternally conflict avoidant part of her hoped maybe they didn’t. There were so many things at war in Karen at that moment. She had no idea what she’d say. She didn’t know what she wanted. She had gotten Nancy back, and that had consumed her thoughts for so long that everything else had been secondary. There were consequences to that. Just like there were consequences to sleeping with someone who you’d spent a month hating and accidentally calling your daughter “our” daughter, and she really… _really_ didn’t want to face those consequences.

She didn’t think he spoke during the entire car ride, so maybe the same things were passing through his head, too.

Mount Vernon was a blessing, mostly because even after being checked over, no one in the car had showered in 24 hours or more, and the closed quarters was full of body odor and cigarette smoke by the time they pulled into Joyce’s driveway.

Everyone stumbled out, coughing and yawning and stretching the hours on the road off their joints. Steve was waiting, the kids all scattered around the lawn.

“El, please order uh…like…three large pizzas,” she said, counting heads. “Some sodas, too.”

“Okay Mom!” El said, finally letting go of Hopper’s hand to head inside.

Joyce had Murray’s sleeve in one hand and reached out for Hopper, too.

“Boys, can you get out all the camping gear? We don’t have a lot of space to spare, but we have the clubhouse in the back, a pullout couch and some sleeping bags. We can definitely make it work,” she said to her sons before she pulled Hop and Murray in for a group hug and released them, looking tired.

“Mike, will you help Will and Jonathan make some places for everyone to sleep?” Karen said, shooing him towards the house.

The kids all set out to make the house accommodate about double the people it reasonably should.

“We can definitely head back to Hawkins if you need to clear space,” Karen said, putting a hand on Joyce’s shoulder.

“It’s late and we’ve been driving nonstop for three days. Take some time to rest, for their sake if not yours,” she said. “We can definitely make it work.”

“Steve and Robin can have the floor in my room,” Jonathan called from somewhere near the garage.

“And we can all sleep in Will’s room, or in the clubhouse,” Mike said. “We’ll all fit, Mom! Don’t worry about it!” The girls loudly barred the boys from El’s room, rushing into the house behind them.

She smiled at how easily generous the kids were being, hurrying back and forth to get things ready and discuss logistics and reflect on how _cool_ everything that happened was. As if it wasn’t the stuff of nightmares. She didn’t know how she’d sleep for the next ten years.

“We’ve got the pullout couch,” Joyce said, tone measured as she looked from Karen to Murray.

“I’ll take the floor,” Murray said easily. “Or just sleep in the van. Definitely not the first time.” He was smiling, but there was something strained behind it. He stopped her before she could follow Joyce and Hopper inside. “I think we should talk.”

“About?” she asked, as though she didn’t know.

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have a head injury, Karen. The last forty-eight hours have been complicated, but we are both adults, so we should probably…”

“I’d like to just spend some time with my kids,” she said. “That feels like the most important thing right now. For everyone.”

Shaking his head, he relented. “Fine.”

“Good.” She walked inside, sitting down at the kitchen table next to Nancy, who was pouring drinks.

“Where’s Joyce?”

“Her and Hopper are back there,” Nancy said, pointing in the direction of Joyce’s room. “I figured we’d leave them to it, as long as they finished before the pizza got here.”

They didn’t, though the ensuing giggle fit was a good distraction for a little while. Pizza was a better one. Once everyone was fed, the kids had all disappeared into Will’s room to play games until they were ready to fall asleep, and Nancy and her friends were outside on the front porch, watching the sky and talking quietly, though the cracked windows made it sound a lot louder than it probably was.

Joyce and Jim emerged eventually, looking overjoyed and exhausted. Karen almost resented it a little. Why couldn’t she just be happy, like that? Why was she overthinking everything?

“’Night,” Joyce said, and they disappeared with a box of pizza and a bottle of wine.

“They’re in for a good one,” Murray groused, flinging paper plates into the trashcan with a slightly undue force.

“They’ve earned it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The silence was terse. She put away leftovers and tried to tidy the space without making too much noise, unsure of who was asleep and who was awake at this point in the night. 

“I was one good night,” he said finally. “We never have to talk about it again.”

That certainly wasn’t what she expected him to say. Even though her own feelings on the matter were growing more complicated by the second, she couldn’t help but feel a little irrationally wounded at how easily he said it. It felt like she was getting dumped again. “Is that what you want?” she asked, reflexively.

“Irrelevant.”

She rolled her eyes. The wind whistled loudly through a crack in the kitchen window. She walked to the back of the house and out into the yard, not wanting to wake anyone with her frustration. “You can never just answer a question!”

He shut the door behind him. “You’ve been avoiding talking to me for a solid twenty-four hours, how am I the bad guy here?”

“It wasn’t the time!”

“Is now the time?”

“You’re making it the time, I guess. So just tell me what you want from me so we can get it over with,” she said, throwing up her hands, frustrated.

“I don’t want anything from you, Karen, that’s the _point_.”

“I – what?” Her brain had to take a moment to recalibrate. “What are you saying?”

“I…uhm. Well.” He seemed to be at a loss for words too, like maybe he was hoping that he could end the conversation before he got to this point in it. He took a breath, reached out and took her hand, and in the soft glow of the porch light, it was hard to tell that they were both covered in interdimensional monster slime and blood. “I care about you.” He cringed. “A lot? And that’s my fault, I tend to…invest myself kind of quickly and then people die horribly or leave and – well. Nevermind.”

She waited for the point.

“But this is all you,” he said. “I don’t expect you to want or need more than what’s already happened. We don’t have anything in common, we don’t know each other that well, this wasn’t exactly…”

Karen thought about if anyone had ever told her that what she wanted was more important than their feelings. She’d put her kids and husband first for a long time and had really lost sight of her own wants in the shuffle. “I’m not even technically divorced yet,” she said. “I think I do need some time to sort things out.”

“Obviously. And I probably have a few decades worth of emotional baggage to sort through,” he agreed. “Probably because of my parents…my father was a Rabbi…” He was joking now, breaking the tension.

She kissed him. “You talk too much,” she said. “Thank you for being –”

“Cold-hearted?”

“Probably.” She laughed. “Seriously, though. You and Joyce were the first people who didn’t assume I just wanted the same thing as everyone else,” she said. “And I know that we agree that we both have some stuff to work on and probably aren’t really capable of having a real relationship, but we didn’t really finish –”

He smirked. “We can pick up where we left off,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss.

“Ugh, Mom, _no_!”

“We’ll reschedule for somewhere less public, obviously,” Murray said, turning to glare at Nancy where she was standing at the back door. “But for now, handle our daughter.”

He was back to being infuriating. “ _My_ daughter.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely all you,” he said, walking away, laughing.


	24. 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very small spotify playlist of the songs i listened to while writing this (and maybe some of the songs karen listened to during the events of this story, you'll be able to tell) is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7CAbww6Nw7wlcpn3JmZUFf)! one more after this! for those of you who read all of this self-indulgence nonsense....thank you. it was fun to write, though karen not being the most introspective person posed some fun challenges. she's learned a lot. i hope she gets to be in on the fun in season 4.

The return to Hawkins and the subsequent days and weeks were a blur of _everything_ ; they moved Nancy into her college dorm (a week late with a medical note helpfully provided by Dr. Owens), Holly started kindergarten (Karen cried three times the first week), and they dealt with the nitty gritty particulars of the separation and divorce. She did so much as August came to a close that she barely thought about the things she _didn’t_ do. September promised to finally give her a break, and it did.

She and Mike went to gun range some weekends, and she took Holly to a “Mommy-Daughter Self-Defense” Class at the YMCA a town over. Maybe she was paranoid, but she knew that the Doctor who had tortured El and Kali was still out there, and Mike and El were joined at the hip, so it was a matter of time before the Wheelers were dragged back into this mess.

Sure, toting a gun around alarmed her neighbors, but they were also alarmed when Mick and Dottie visited, and Karen found herself not caring all that much what the neighbors thought. They would visit passing through Hawkins with Kali and crashing at Karen’s while Kali went to Robin’s. They did pedicures in the back yard, and Karen caught Dottie teaching Holly swear words. She pretended to disapprove but couldn’t really conceal her laughter. They were traveling now, hunting down Dr. Brenner, but they stopped in to keep an eye on Hawkins, and she knew they visited El a lot too.

Her social group had certainly expanded, and she enjoyed it, but being able to see Joyce was still the highlight for her.

They were having a wine weekend; the first time they’d gotten to have some time just the two of them since everything had happened. She was celebrating putting the house on Maple St. on the market. She would split the sale with Ted and use her half to pay off the station wagon and move to a smaller place in Hawkins.

She’d considered leaving Hawkins after everything but pulling Mike out of high school right before his sophomore year seemed unfair, and it seemed like Hawkins maybe needed someone to look after it. Ted was in Indianapolis, and Holly spent every other weekend and some school breaks with him. He got lunch with Nancy at the university, since she was in the city.

Somehow, she thought maybe the separation was making him a better dad. He didn’t have her to tell him how to do it all, he had to figure it out himself.

“Where’s Hop?”

“Murray’s,” Joyce said. “He says they’re working on, you know, the stuff, but I think they’re probably just getting drunk.”

“Sounds about right.”

“You still haven’t –”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to?”

Karen thought about it. They’d left on a positive note, yes, but they hadn’t actually seen each other since the night after they rescued Nancy and Jonathan. Well, they had in passing at Joyce’s, but she hadn’t gone out of her way, and neither did he.

She had other things to do, people who depended on her to think about.

“Maybe. I’ve just been so focused on everything else, I hadn’t given it much thought.” She’d found a job as a bank teller, and was starting next week, now that things had been settled. She was ready to have something to do while the kids were at school.

Joyce shrugged. “It’s been hectic.” They both laughed, because hectic seemed like such an understatement.

“You’ve got to come to Hawkins soon, maybe when I get the new place. We can throw a little housewarming party. Get all the kids together.” She wished it was easier for Mike to see El and Will. He’d had too much homework to justify bringing him on this visit, but with the promise that next time it would be a family outing.

“As long as Claudia brings that moonshine, I’m in,” Joyce said, remembering Nancy’s going away party two weeks ago, where once the kids had split off to do normal teenage things (she loved it when they did lighthearted, easy things, and didn’t wake up screaming from nightmares) Claudia had pulled a bottle out of her purse and the four mothers had gotten entirely too smashed.

Jim was not amused.

“We barely drank half the bottle, she’ll have to bring it,” Karen said thoughtfully. “Otherwise she’ll never get rid of the stuff.”

“She could always use it to polish silverware.”

“Or clean out a carburetor.”

They put on some silly romantic comedy and polished off the bottle of wine, falling asleep on the couch under a pile of fleece blankets together, and not waking up until Hopper burst into the house, reeking faintly of cigarettes and vodka.

“I’ll make breakfast,” he announced, putting on a pot of coffee and a huge rack of bacon.

The kids stumbled out of their rooms at the hint of bacon. Breakfast was served. Joyce looked happy when Hopper gave her a plate personally, and Karen was relieved. She had worried that their jumping into cohabitating after he came back from the dead would put a strain on them, but it was the opposite. Joyce looked like she was finally exactly where she was supposed to be. So did Hopper, so did Will, and so did El. They were always meant to be a family.

She was happy for Joyce.

“I’m gonna head out,” she said after helping Joyce wash the dishes. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Call when you get home,” Joyce said.

“I will.”

She doesn’t actually head straight for Hawkins. It’s a scenic drive on a lovely day, not quite summer and not quite fall, and she enjoys the stretch of road and the peace and quiet.

Parking and walking up to a familiar door, she presses the button. “It’s Karen,” she said, looking up at the blinking camera.

“How are you?” she asked when she was permitted inside.

“Fine,” he said, a little halting, a little awkward. Suspicious, probably, as he usually was. “You?”

“Really good, actually.”

“So no one’s missing or dead?” he asked.

“No one.”

“Then I guess I know why you’re here,” Murray concluded.

“Ah, yes, I believe we had some unfinished business to attend to,” she said, the picture of casual even as they both started to grin. The whole thing was entirely too ridiculous.

He kissed her once and then pulled her to the bedroom.


	25. epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's done! and for a visual reference, the mysterious stranger looks and is dressed approximately like [this](https://66.media.tumblr.com/e9cf7b0177f90f74701a3010c0d64188/tumblr_pwhn6cU7uQ1vpdoazo1_540.jpg) (but like 18ish)
> 
> Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thanks for reading this fic. I know it's bananas. I know it's incredibly self-indulgent, and I know that it'll never ever resemble canon, but it's been a fun ride, and it's the first long fic I've successfully written in a couple years without abandoning it for longs stretches of time (previously untreated ADD for the win!), so I'm really proud to have gotten to this point. Stay tuned, because I'm kicking around a potential sequel with either Robin or Keith (or both) as the lead character. I can't promise it'll happen, but I really wanted to kill Brenner and I didn't in this fic, so I might have to. You can find me on tumblr @murraybaeman, and sporadically on twitter @emilymantaray.
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, commenting feeds my already overinflated ego and I love reading them!

**September 26th, 1986**

“Don’t look, but there’s a girl back there that’s been following us for three blocks,” Nancy said quietly.

Karen was visiting Nancy in Indianapolis, and they were on their way to meet Ted and Holly at the zoo for an afternoon. Mike had declined to join, instead spending the weekend with Will and Eleven. Jonathan had been teaching Will to drive, and Mike thought (having been practicing a whole four months longer than Will) he was a bastion of wisdom on the subject and could help.

Karen imagined that Jim would cut in and actually teach the kids.

Digging through her bag, she pulled out her compact mirror and lipstick, using it to peer over her shoulder as she touched up her makeup.

“All black clothes, big hair,” Nancy said.

At a glance, the hair reminded her of Mick, but Mick wouldn’t be trying to be sneaky, she would say hello. On a second look, this girl was clearly no older than Nancy, with wild curly hair, a dark outfit and a bag slung over one shoulder. She was doing a good job of subtly following, but unfortunately for her she was following two people who suffered from slightly justifiable cases of hypervigilance.

“She looks a little young to be…”

“He used child weapons before, can’t rule it out,” she said.

Once they got into the zoo, the girl vanished. Karen was happy to write it off as a coincidence, but Nancy wasn’t so sure.

Ted had already bought Holly the biggest thing of cotton candy he could find.

“Ted, she hasn’t even had lunch yet,” Karen said.

“Yeah but she wanted it,” he defended, ruffling Holly’s hair. “It’s a family day, why not have dessert first?”

Karen and Nancy laughed.

“Well, you’ll be the one cleaning up pink and blue puke,” Nancy said to him, taking Holly’s non-sugar-filled hand and pointing to the nearest exhibit, full of bright parrots. “Let’s go learn about the birds, Hol!”

“I never realized how much work went into all this stuff,” Ted said, rubbing the back of his head. “I feel like…I owe you an apology.” Apparently, it had taken four months of living on his own to really whittle down his pride to the point where he could apologize.

Instead of snarking off, as she might have been tempted to, she smiled. “It’s fine. I did it because I loved my family and I wanted to. We were just doing what we thought was right.”

“Was it?” Ted asked, not used to the more philosophical side of Karen.

“I dunno. I don’t think I could do it again, that’s for sure.”

Ted nodded. “You do seem happy.”

“Thanks, Ted.” She didn’t know if he meant it in a good way, but instead of wondering, she decided to just assume he did. They walked to catch up with the girls as Holly marveled over a Komodo dragon.

“Isn’t that a little scary, Hols?” Ted said.

“Not as scary as the slime monsters,” she said.

“I guess…Holly got into Mike’s dungeon books again,” Nancy said slowly, raising an eyebrow at Karen.

A normal family day at the zoo, indeed.

When they got dinner that night, the girl who had been following them was two tables away, eating alone and reading a Toni Morrison novel, in a different but still all-black outfit.

-

A week after the zoo, another family gathering was taking place; this time with the various motley components of the groups that had fought Upside Down Monsters and Russians and Mad Scientists. It had been three months since Nancy and Jonathan’s disappearance, to the day, and they had decided to celebrate the fact that they’d beaten the assholes.

They were meeting in Mount Vernon, at a restaurant with an outdoor patio that could accommodate the whole group, no one really wanting to be confined inside on a nice fall afternoon.

Karen had, unbeknownst to anyone else, spent the night in Sesser. The executive decision to pretend that she didn’t spend the night at Murray’s every so often hadn’t been made verbally, but rather passed unspoken between them. Nancy thought that it had been a one-time fluke (denial was a strong Wheeler trait), and Joyce and Jim certainly suspected something, but were polite enough not to comment on it.

It remained an uncomplicated arrangement, with maybe a teeny tiny thrill gotten out of sneaking around.

So they would drive separately to lunch, obviously.

The buzzer on Murray’s front door went off while he was in the back room trying to find where his other shoe had vanished to. Karen, fixing her earrings, didn’t think anything of unlatching the locks, not adhering to his usual paranoid rituals. It was just some deeply engrained reflex in her to open the door at the sound of the doorbell; she was so used to no one else ever doing it.

“What the hell, Karen?” he demanded, returning to the main room shoe in hand.

“If they’re coming to kill us, they’re gonna do it if we open the door or not,” she joked with a scoff, trying to cover her ass a little. “And if it’s out friends, my car is in the driveway.” The whole gig was blown, anyway, so she kept opening the door.

“Well. You do have a point.”

Standing there was the dark-haired girl who had been following them the week before. Nancy hadn’t reported seeing her since on their last phone call, and Karen certainly hadn’t noticed anything in Hawkins.

“You’re that girl who was following us the other weekend,” she said, accusatory.

“I was looking for Murray,” she said, her tone abrasive in a way that was almost _too_ familiar.

Murray looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there right that moment. “How in the hell did you get my address?” he asked. Puzzle pieces were starting to click together in Karen’s brain as she looked from Murray to the girl.

She rolled her eyes, haughty. “Bubbe.”

He said something under his breath that might have been ‘ _mother’_. “Well. Come inside, then,” he said, slamming the door behind her. “This is my daughter Naomi,” he finally said, gesturing to the black-clad girl.

“Hi, I’m Karen.”

“Are you some kind of high-end escort?”

He was pinching the bridge of his nose. “ _Naomi_.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Karen said, not wanting to get anywhere near this nuclear bomb about to detonate. “I hope you’ll join us for lunch, Naomi, I think you’d get along with my daughter.”

“Oh, yeah, Murray, can I come?” she asked, sarcastically pleading. “I wanna meet your replacement family.”

“They’re not a replacement fa – fine. Come on then. Does your mother know where you are?”

“Mama is in Belize,” she said. “Thinks I’m at school, I suppose.”

This all sounded so ridiculously _Murray_ that when Karen finally escaped to the safety of her car, she couldn’t help but laugh. She left in a hurry, hoping to beat him to the restaurant, just so she could see everyone’s reaction to this disaster.

He arrived fifteen minutes later, both he and his daughter scowling in a way that greatly enhanced their resemblance to each other, which was mostly lacking, since the girl was an entirely different race.

Nancy narrowed her eyes, leaning over to Karen. “That’s the girl who was following us,” she whispered, suspicious.

Karen tried to play concerned and surprised, but luckily he spoke up quickly enough that her acting credentials didn’t need to come under scrutiny. “Everyone, this is my daughter,” Murray said begrudgingly. “Daughter, this is everyone.”

“Nu-uh!” Erica Sinclair loudly declared.

“But she’s so pretty!” Lucas chimed in, followed by an audible ‘ow’ from Max elbowing him in the side.

Murray rolled his eyes. “I know.”

“Daughter, do you want to sit with us?” Robin said, gesturing to the empty seat next to Steve.

“Sure,” she said, grinning sarcastically at her dad as she took a seat among the kids her own age. Murray gave up and took a seat next to Hopper.

“I like your hair,” Steve said. Why was that everyone’s go-to line? Did that really work on kids these days? “I’m Steve Harrington.”

“I like yours too,” she replied. “Naomi Bauman.”

“You kind of deserve this,” Karen stage-whispered to Murray as he groaned, glaring at Steve. “You probably could have called her sooner.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“So, why did you guys drive separately if you came from the same place?” she asked, turning innocently to Karen and Murray as the entire table erupted in reactions that varied from Mike’s confused ‘uhh what is she talking about?’ to Nancy’s yelp of protest.

“Well, you two are definitely related,” Joyce said to Murray in a chipper voice. “Oh, the family Hannukah party is going to be a _blast_ this year.”

“Why did I have children?” he asked in a grim voice.

“I can’t believe you lied to me, Mom!” Nancy was griping, her breadstick forgotten in her clenched fist.

“I’m asking myself the same thing,” Karen muttered jokingly. “Nancy, calm down, I’m a grown woman. I can have sex.”

“Ugh, don’t _say_ that!” Mike yelled from where he was hiding in Eleven’s shoulder. “No you _can’t_!”

“Is it too late to give them up for adoption?” she asked, dissolving into a fit of tired laughter.

The family lunch was certainly lively after that.


End file.
